


The Boy with the Red Scarf

by blahthelarry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 1930s, Actor Harry, Alternate Universe - 1930s, Chicago (City), Gangster Louis, Gangsters, M/M, Prohibition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-05 18:53:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 35,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6716980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blahthelarry/pseuds/blahthelarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s 1925 and Harry has left his small home to chase after his father’s footsteps. He wants to be a movie star, make money to keep his family comfortable just like his mother had told him his father had. But when he makes it to Chicago, he finds that people aren’t what they seem. The parties are grand, the women charming, and the money rolls. What he doesn’t understand is that behind that beautiful mask of a city there is something lurking in the shadows. </p><p>Starring Harry as a struggling actor and Louis as Al Capone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I'm happy that anyone would choose to read this. This is quite different from what I have written before. It was a struggle but it was quite worth it. Sadly—but also kind of happy—this is not the last of this little fic. Because of the complex plans I had for this story, I have split it into two. Please stay tuned for the second part!
> 
> I'd like to thank everyone working with Ficathon2016. It was a great honor to do something for charity.
> 
> Happy reading xx

It’s cold. Harry’s got the collar of his jacket up and his hat pulled down over his ears and it still does nothing to beat the chill. It was September and yet autumn was rolling in at a high speed. He couldn’t help but think how Gemma would complain about the weather back in their home town, always finding something she didn’t like. She wouldn’t have liked Chicago any better, but when he had left he had still tried to convince her to come with him. There was no use thought because she was destined to marry the boy across the street who so happened to be the kid that use to steal his lunch. That wasn’t important anymore. Gemma was living with her husband and he was here on the streets of one of the biggest cities in America.

He wasn’t bitter. He just thought life would have worked out better for them if she had tagged along, got used to the tall buildings and the busy people. They would have had fun and maybe he wouldn’t have ended up alone, walking at midnight to a bar that might or might not have been outlawed years ago. He needed money and when he got not letter back from his mom or Gemma, he had to do something so he wouldn’t be kicked out onto the streets.

So this was his fallback plan. Not ideal, breaking the laws that is, but it was better than spending the next three months freezing in back alleys.

He walked a few more blocks and then he spotted what Niall had described to him. The door was plain as well as the cement steps leading up to it. Against the wall it didn’t stand out like the other buildings along the street. Where he was greeted by flashing lights, this building greeted him in dark contrast. It was the perfect place to hide an illegal bar, the best place he had seen around town.

Inside though, he was fighting with himself. When Niall had approached him in the time of need, he had been so desperate for a way out that he had agreed to the first thing that had come his way. That happened to be Niall’s proposition. It had been a couple of years since the alcohol ban had reached across the country, finally finding its way to Chicago, and it was then that the business of making and selling it had become so profitable.

He knew when Niall had explained it to him that this would open doors that he might not be able to close. It was a risk that he was a little afraid of making, but he had to.

“Just come down to the bar. If after tonight you don’t like it, then you can back out,” Niall had said to him.

When he put it into those words, it didn’t sound so bad. It was like a test run. He would try it out before he knocked it and if he thought he could do it then it would be a set deal. But the second thoughts were getting to him now. The door was right in front of him and he could choose to enter or to turn back.

He’d convinced himself already that he needed this. He needed the money and he needed something so that he wouldn’t go out of his mind. Audition after audition and rejection after rejection was drilled into his head and it felt like a never ending cycle.

He had to do this.

That was his choice and he was sticking to it. With a deep breath, he reached out and opened the door.

The bar was called The Emblem. It had sprung up two years ago without much of a background and soon word hit the streets. Everyone knew about it and knew better to keep their mouths shut if they wanted to keep it open. There was also the rumor that who ever owned the bar was of great money and had connections to police stations all over the city. They had power and they had money.

At first he was weary after hearing about it. Of course he would be scared of entering a business that was new to, but he wasn’t really inside of the business. He was only to become a bartender, but that also brought a lot more trouble than he was looking for.

The first steps in were strange. A soft piano melody drifted down a dim lighted hallway. He closed the door behind him and walked further into the building. It was a little naive to leave the front door unattended. They should at least have someone on guard in case a rat came snooping around. Though if they had survived this long then they knew what they were doing. And taking a chance kind of incited Harry.

The end of the hall was another door. He tugged on the handle, puzzled when it didn’t open as easily as the other. He tried again but failed and then was startled when the door creaked open. A man a couple inches taller than him blocked his path inside. He wore a suit, more expensive than the clothes Harry owned, and tucked in his belt was a small pocket knife.

Gangsters weren’t uncommon but Harry had never been up close to one, not one that was not playing pretend to scare the shit out of the local kids. This one wasn’t playing no joke, his stoic face a sure answer to that.

“Name.”

It wasn’t no question and he wasn’t going to give no half ass retort.

“Harry,” he coughed. “Harry Styles.”

The man cocked his head, gave him a once over and then widened the door. Harry was so scared out of his mind, he was a little thankful he didn’t shit in his pants. Walking by was the easy part, but when he was actually inside was the most difficult to take in. It was rowdy like the parties he had heard up in his apartment, where the city was alive with people singing and laughing to their hearts content. Outside was a whole different world. Inside The Emblem, the air changed and he felt like he was walking on cloud nine.

No one spoke above a whisper and no one gave you a glance over then looked away. They stared into your soul, looking for an answer whether you had power or money or if you were nobody. It gave him the chills and he basked in it. He’d wanted attention and here he got it, just a little different than he had been looking for.

“Harry!”

A blonde boy strode through the small crowd, waving his hand at Harry. The boy was Niall, of course, because who else could have known his name in this place. He wouldn’t mind if the women lazing at the booths knew who he was. Their dresses were something to look at, ranging in bright gold and silver colors. There was also the lone woman smoking in the corner, dressed in red and her long hair pulled up in an elegant bun.

“You’ve decided then?” The boy’s smile was bright, stretching wide across his face. He was dressed in a white dress shirt, suspenders, and slacks. Tied around his waist was a black apron, clean and wrinkle free. Harry wasn’t sure why he was drawn to whether Niall was well kept or if he was covered in a layer of dirt.

“It’s not a done deal. There’s more to think about.” He felt strange talking out loud, like if he would be heard they would think less of him.

Niall seemed to understand his feelings. “Let’s go to the back.”

He grabbed his arm and gently pulled him through the small crowd. Smoke filled the air, girls giggling on the arms of charming men who looked too classy to be from Harry’s small town. One man met his eyes as they went by and before they disappeared into another room, the unknown man gave him a wink.

His cheeks burned, even when Niall closed the door.

The boy patted at seat beside an old crate. “Have a seat. We’ve got a couple things to talk about.”

Harry nodded, sliding onto the wooden stool and watched as Niall opened boxes. He pulled out a couple bottles and lined them up on the crate.

“Nine o’clock is our opening time. Be here at around eight thirty. Closing time is three. Be prepared to be dead walking in the morning.”

He watched as Niall worked around the small storage room, picking up clean wash cloths and then handing them over to Harry.

“Help me, will yeah? I’ll show you around ‘til you get the hang of it.” He shined his famous smile, the one Harry liked the most because it made him look younger than he already did. It was a friendly smile and he sure did need it.

The nerves were wracking inside of him and he couldn’t get them to settle down. The last time he had felt like this was the day he had left for the train station. His mom had been sleeping when he had snuck out, just so that he wouldn’t have to see her cry. That had to be the worst part about leaving; the part where he didn’t even get to say goodbye. They wrote each other, but it wasn’t like being right there beside them.

Niall picked up the bottles and lead them back out to the main part of the bar. In the few minutes they had been back in the room, the size of the crowd had almost doubled. Girls in short dresses now danced on the dance floor with tall men, young boys crowded together in a far booth to watch the young girls. The soul of the bar had changed from calm to chaotic.

Harry nudged Niall with his elbow. “Is it always like this?”

“It gets better,” he said then laughed at Harry’s face.

“Oh, don’t look so terrified. You’ll get used to it. By the time this place is done with yeah, you’ll be missing it.”

He hoped dearly that that wasn’t true. What he didn’t want was for the smoke and the smell of alcohol to be drifting with him for the rest of his life.

<><><>

The night moved on with a slow pace. There was something odd with how time seemed to stop once he had entered the small bar. It must have been due to the sluggish dancing, the slow music, and how everyone talked with a slow slur in their voice. No one seemed to care that they were wasting time and their money; they seemed in their own, living with sin at their backs and a shot of whiskey in their hands.

Except for one man.

He sat in the corner of the place, surrounded by three beautiful women. They would lean in to giggle in his ear and he would answer back, sliding one hand onto their knee. The girls would laugh some more, sipping on whatever drink they had ordered and smoking on the cigarette he was sharing. Harry had been watching them for a while, more than he would deem fit for a young man to stare at an older man. His mind turned gears, wondering what they were talking about and wondering if he really wanted to know.

Niall slides up to him, handing him a cup.

Inside is a drink that he doesn't know the name of and Niall doesn't tell him. He only nods his head towards the man he had been eyeing, the one who doesn't seem to be shy around the loud women. He could say something right now; he could slide the cup across the counter or ignore the look the blond is giving him. Those are his options and instead of following them, he takes the drink and looks to the far corner.

The man is laughing, crinkles around his eyes. He's genuinely happy and somehow that eases the nerves in Harry's stomach. It really shouldn't, not when he's got men and women alike waiting to be served, high on the party around them. They all want a piece of him, want him to make them a drink or grab them a snack to hold off their hunger because none of them are eating. The girls are almost skin and bone but some are thicker than their counterparts.

Harry decides then that he likes the girls that come to have fun for themselves and not the ones that only come there to snatch up high paying men. These girls, the ones looking for money, smell a certain way. Their lips are painted a deep cherry and their voices are silky. They scan the room with predator eyes, basking in the dim lights over head. Their hair is tied back or cropped short, not a single piece falling out of place.

He doesn't like the way they lean against the bar, how even he is a victim of their stare. He's dressed in uniform now, better than what he'd been wearing out on the streets, but nothing compared to the suits the men he serves are dressed in.

With the drink heavy in his hand, he walks around the bar. No one takes notice of him, only the ones who had been at the bar when he had been working. They don’t pay attention to him though for long. They continue on with their conversations or sipping from their almost empty cups. Harry’s heart is beating loudly against his ribs. He can feel it in his throat and he wonders why he’s so nervous.

This isn’t something strange or unusual. This is just business.

But when he’s standing over the man he starts to think that maybe it isn’t.

“Sir,” he says, just loud enough to be heard. The girls stop their giggling and look up at Harry with a glare. They seem to blame him for stealing away the man’s attention.

It shouldn’t be like this, he thinks, but his thoughts are interrupted.

“Thanks, love.” The man’s voice is higher than he imagined. Even so, it commands. It’s the voice of a leader, one who can control anyone with ease.

Thanks, love.

The words play over in his head. He tries to understand them, wondering if there is a secret message hidden underneath it.

The man looks away, smiling at the little blond on his right. “Right, then, girls. Who’s in the mood for a little dancin’?”

The girls giggle some more and Harry stands there, frozen. He’s startled when he feels a hand on his shoulder.

“Mr. Tomlinson, it’s a pleasure.” Harry knows the voice of Niall. This time, however, it’s more professional, more so than it was when he’d showed Harry around. He’s a little put off by the change in the atmosphere.

Mr. Tomlinson looks up, nodding to Niall. “Horan, you’ve been well as I take it?”

Niall nods. “Business is well.”

Mr. Tomlinson smiles and laughs. His eyes drift to Harry and then back to Niall. “How about we close up shop early? Lovely party going on at my place, wouldn’t want you two to miss it.”

He could have mistaken it, but Harry thought he saw a glimpse of something in the man’s eyes. It must have been nothing.

“Yes, sir.”

Mr. Tomlinson waves his hand. “No need. Louis fits me better.”

Harry watches as the blond woman’s hand scooted up the man’s thigh. She bites her bottom lip, her eyes flickering up at Harry’s. His eyes turn into slits, but she doesn’t flinch like he wants her to.

“See you there, boys,” Louis says and stands up.

The whole time the group leaves Harry watches with glaring eyes.

 


	2. Chapter Two

The air was cold, that was all Harry could tell with the heat of a hand on his lower back. His nose was bright red and he was sure his cheeks looked just the same. Snow fell from the sky, covering the ground and trees in white. He’d always loved to sit on the ledge of the tallest building in town, the bakery, when it was this time of year. It gave him a weird sense of belonging.

In school and when he swept the floors of the bakery, it always felt like he was pretending. But right here, he was himself and he didn’t have to do anything to impress anyone.

“Hazza! It’s freezing out here, isn’t it? Why, you’ll catch a cold!” A boy with bright blue eyes leaned over him to feel his cheeks. Giggling, Harry pushed the hand away and moved away from the edge.

“I’m okay, nothing to worry about,” he argued back, but the boy wouldn’t have it.

The boy unwrapped the scarf that had probably been tied around his neck by his mother. “You have to listen to me. I’m the older one!”

Harry rolled his eyes. “We are in the same class. It doesn’t matter. Two years isn’t that long.”

The boy frowned while throwing the red scarf around Harry’s neck. “Eight years old and so bossy. Harry Styles, the older kids will beat you up if you go around talking like that.”

“Then I’ll beat them up right back!”

The boy laughed and cupped Harry’s cheeks. Before Harry could pull back, lips pressed to his. He went still in surprise. When the boy pulled back, he was still frozen.

“You can’t go around kissing someone like that!” He hit the boy in the chest.

“Why not? Would you rather kiss a girl and get cooties?” When Harry didn’t reply the boy smiled in victory. “Come on then. The old man down stairs is probably looking for us to clean the kitchen.”

Harry chased after the boy, not caring to think about the deeper meaning the kiss had meant. Innocence was bliss after all, but when it came at a price, well, it was best to not speak of it.

<><><>

Niall knew the way to Louis’ house as he has been there before. Harry followed without questioning what exactly he had been doing there because that was between him and Louis. He was sure Niall would like to keep his private affairs private as much as he could. But he was curious. It seemed there were many things that Harry didn’t know about his dear friend, not too secretive though. He had never seemed like the type that liked to follow the wrong people, messing around in things that were illegal.

Alcohol and gangsters.

That’s what Harry presumed Louis was: a gangster.

Niall talked to him like he was his boss and if that were to be true then Louis was the owner of The Emblem. That meant a whole set of other things that he didn’t want to think about. The only thing that really mattered at that moment was how Harry’s heart had beat so hard against his chest when their eyes met.

It was unlike anything he had ever known; that alone scared him to the brink of death.

“How do you know him?” The question didn’t sound like he was fishing for anything. At best it sounded like he wanted to start a casual conversation. He was hoping it sounded like that and not forced.

Niall stuffed his hands into his pants pockets, tilting his head to glance Harry’s way. His blond hair reflected in the moonlight, shining brightly. “Know who?”

Harry snorted. “The fat fucker in the back. Who the hell do you think I’m talking about?”

Niall cracked a grin, laughing out into the cold night air. “Your tongues got fight, but that won’t save you from him.”

“Now you’re talkin’ in riddles?”

The blond laughed again. “Don’t sound like yourself. Sure you ain’t sippin’ behind my back?”

“Now where would I be able to do that?” The teasing in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. This is what he missed about back home with his sister. The playfulness and though Niall did a good job at taking his mind off other things, the boy couldn’t keep his thoughts off how he was failing at his dream.

Many minutes later arrived to a lavish hotel, the ones that had men at the doors and red carpet running down the lobby floor. Above their heads, a glass chandelier hung from the ceiling, sparkling in just the right way to catch someone’s eyes, but not blind them. Harry took a sharp intake of breath.

This was only something he had dreamed about back home and on cold nights alone in his apartment. It was one of the things that had him driving forward instead of turning back and going back to the way things were when life got hard. It wasn’t easy to go on when he didn’t get a part or he couldn’t afford anything to eat. Nothing could compare to the feeling he got when he imagined himself living somewhere like this.

Jealousy went through him, drifting inside of his head long enough for him to push it away as soon as possible. There was no questions that this man was living his dreams, but he wasn’t going to get mad. Yes, he was jealous, but he knew how to control himself. And honestly, what could he do? Enjoy the party? Yes. That was what he was going to do.

Niall walked up to the front desk, the woman behind eyeing them. “Tomlinson.”

As soon as the last name fell from his lips the woman’s face lit up. A smile stretched across her features, shining more brightly than the chandelier.

“Room 217 gentlemen.” Niall nodded and waved for Harry to come along.

When they made it to the elevator he turned to the blonde. “That seemed too easy for security.”

“It’s a party night. The door will most likely be open for anyone, as long as they meet Tomlinson’s appeal.”

“And what is that?”

Niall smiled up at him. “Could be anything. One time the man let a girl in because she was wearing blue trousers.”

“Trousers!”

“Don’t act shocked.”

How could he not? Mr. Tomlinson was a living dream of America’s wantings. It would seem this man had everything that everyone wanted. He lived in a grand home, threw parties, lounged with different women, and then, it seemed, he barely lifted a finger for it. And then there was Harry, slaving away just to keep his crappy apartment. It wasn’t just everyone else’s dream, but his. He had come to Chicago to live exactly like this and this is what he was given.

A life filled with nothing but work.

Don’t act shocked? He knew he shouldn’t say anything. It would make Niall upset. So, he bit his tongue and hoped he would be able to do just that when he had to face the great man again.

It was like no time had passed before they were standing in front of the door. The loud voices on the other side only made Harry queasy to his stomach. He shouldn’t be and neither should Niall be. There was also music drifting out into the hall, but it was quite faint when compared to the laughs and the drunken yells. If it weren’t for the money Mr. Tomlinson was probably paying to stay here then Harry had no doubt they would have been thrown out otherwise.

Niall gave him a slide glance, hoping he would be the first to plunge in. Harry shook his head.

The poor lad sighed and knocked.

At first, Harry thought maybe that hadn’t heard them. It was a slim chance that anyone was actually waiting by the door, ready to let a guest in, but he’d assumed. A second passed and when Niall raised his hand to knock again, the door flew open.

“Welcome! Come drink and entertain these lonely women!” The man tipped his hat and whispered to them. “Please, I can’t by myself.”

Harry looked pass the man and found that indeed the man was out numbered by the young women lounging about the living space. Some turned their heads from their conversations, wondering with curiosity what pair had come stumbling to their party. One woman caught Harry’s eye and when she found that he was staring at her, she waved with a flirty smile.

Blushing, the boy looked away and turned his focus to the man who had answered the door.

Niall held out his hand. “I’m Niall.”

“Ben, but most call me by my last name, Winston.”

Harry looked away from the man and found his eyes wandering the room. His thoughts were nonexistence as if he had no real opinions about what he was seeing. He felt sleepy and really all he wanted to do was going to sleep. But Mr. Tomlinson had invited them to his party and Niall could never turn him down. He wasn’t sure how he would react put into that situation, but he felt he would have done the same thing.

There was something about the man that called for attention. He couldn’t imagine anyone actually disobeying him. His blue eyes were nothing like anything Harry had seen in his lifetime, but they struck a cord in him. They looked all too familiar to him for some reason, like he had met someone whose eyes were the exact same color. He couldn’t recall ever meeting a man or woman who had such striking eyes. Maybe he was losing his mind to whatever smell was drifting in the air.

When he looked back to Niall the boy was already looking at him.

“What?” Harry reached up to wipe at his face. Was there something there?

Niall frowned before waving his hand towards the door. Harry followed the movement and realized the man, Winston, had walked into the room and was waiting for them to follow his path. They walked into the room, shutting the door behind them.

Now that they were standing inside, he could see the full room. Two couches were pushed to the far wall, women and men laying over them while others sat in chairs or stood against the walls, talking to each other with a glass in hand. They were dressed in beautiful dresses or fine suits, much more suitable than the items Harry wore. He looked down at his attire, cheeks turning pink. It would have been best if he had changed before coming over. He hadn’t thought it would be like this, but he should have known. This was a party of a very rich man and who attended were of the upper class.

It still did not hit him until a warm hand touched his arm, pulling him away from the safety of Niall’s gaze. At first, he wasn’t sure what was happening, but when he was far away from the others, standing outside on a balcony, he knew that someone was holding him closer than normal.

“You came.”

Drunk lips brushed against his skin. He pulled away, confused. “Was I not to?”

The man shook his head. “I invited you here.”

Harry bit his lip. “Mr. Tomlin--”

“Louis. Call me Louis.”

His breath hitched. “Sorry.”

Louis waved his hand and walked to look over the balcony. “It’s fine. I haven’t gotten use yet to everyone looking up to me like this. I’m suppose to be a powerful man, but I’m sure I don’t seem like it.”

He tilted his head back, gazing back at Harry. “Do I?”

“No,” Harry whispered. He was quite confused as to why Louis had brought him out here. There were many others who needed to be entertained and by the passing looks, many wanted to speak to him. Like he had thought countless times before, the man had a certain air about him. People flocked to him, relishing in the warmth and radiance he gave off. It was as if they believed that they would be able to retain what was shed on them.

He was no exception.

Louis’ smile grew. “That’s good, yeah? I wouldn’t want to scare away all those pretty girls out there. Say, you found one that interests you?”

“Out there?” Harry turned his head, staring through the glass doors, watching as Niall offered a woman a glass. The woman took it, smiling shyly. He turned back to Louis.

The man was staring at him, resting his arm on the balcony edge. His blue eyes seemed to twinkle in the moon light. Harry cocked his head. His mind wondered what was going through his head.

“Anywhere, if you want. I’m surprised you don’t have a little lass following you now.” He moved closer. “In your hometown, you left girls weeping when you left. I’m sure they miss you more than you do them.”

Harry took the time to ponder Louis’ words, pursing his lips. “I never talked to them. They would have been foolish to want after me.”

Louis shook his head as if he couldn’t wrap around how dense the boy could be. “Oh, Harold. You are far too sweet.”

Harry’s heart leaped at the nickname. He swallowed, glanced over to the bright city. The buildings looked magnificent from this high up. The people before could be barely seen and he kind of liked that. He felt somewhat different than the regular folk down there. Sometimes he forgot that he wasn’t just another person and that he was unique, even if he wasn’t doing so well at landing a role.

“When I started this business it had been about the money and living in places like this.” Louis’ voice startled Harry. He was closer to him that he had expected, their arms brushing against another. “I wanted to leave my old life in the dust and be able to live without worry. I can only imagine that’s what you’re chasing after. Your face reminds me of myself.”

Harry’s eyes drifted down to his lips, licking his own unconsciously. “W-What has changed?”

Louis raised an eyebrow.

Harry cleared his throat and spoke again. “I mean, you said it used to be about money. What are you chasing now?”

Louis let out a deep sigh, curling his fingers around the railing. The stars called his attention and he looked up at them before answering. “I don’t know.”

The beat of silence between them was more deafening than the cheering inside. The wind blew of curl into Harry’s face and he reached up to tuck it behind his hair. Louis watched his movement, Harry’s cheeks burning red when he noticed his stare. His heart skipped a beat, pounding against his rib cage. He tried to banish the inappropriate thoughts circling around in his head, but they insisted on their stay.

“Your business...”

There was no right to say what was on his mind. He found himself debating his words before he simply decided to leave it at that. Louis seemed to understand and nodded his head towards the doors.

“We should go back.”

Though he knew it was Louis who had pulled him out here, he felt as if it was his idea. The weight on his shoulders grew heavier and he looked at the man with a sort of longing. Of course, he wouldn’t describe it as such. There was only the idea that this man was a mystery and somehow struck something inside of him.

He was inspiring, much more than anyone he had met, that including his mother.

But as the party went on and he lost himself to the poisonous drink, he began to realize that his idolizing wasn’t so innocent as he had first thought.

<><><>

Zayn sat the cup of tea on the table in front of Harry, leaving the spoon behind.

“Thank you,” Harry said, lifting the hot cup to his mouth, his lips touching the brim lightly. He internally hissed at the warmth, but didn’t shy away from it.

“Tell me.” Harry looked up from the cup with curiosity. He’d never let on that he had anything to say other than to visit under normal circumstances. But he guessed there was no normal way to say the things he was going to say. He looked out the window, watching as people walked along the street, some saying hello and others curiously gazing at the automobiles. Those were no doubt new comers to the big city.

He had been like them. There was so much excitement flowing through him when he stepped off the train that he hadn’t paid attention to where he was going. This lead him to almost being hit by an oncoming beast on wheels. The things were a dime a dozen from where he was, almost a rarity.

“Tell what? Of the adventure I had enjoyed last night?” Zayn cocked an eyebrow, but Harry continued on. “It wasn’t much of anything. A mingle of others, completely in their own world.”

He took a sip of the tea.

“But you were invited. Why?” The other man leaned forward in his seat, hands crossed in his lap.

Harry took a second to respond, thinking over his words wisely. He didn’t want to give too much information so that his friend would know who he was talking about, but he did want to tell him an interesting story. He licked his lips.

“There was a man.”

Zayn looked taken aback. “A man?”

Harry nodded. “Yes, a man. A very powerful one. He could have commanded the sea if he wanted to. He looked the part as well, but in a more...compact form.”

“He sounds amazing!”

Yes, Harry thought. He is.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter Three

Going back to his normal job wasn’t easy at first. He had tried auditioning to the opening theater, but there was no luck placing a part, not even the role that didn’t speak. The only thing had had him going were the letters he would occasionally receive from Anne and Gemma. There was also Niall who pushed him to keep trying.

Working at the bar had given him something to keep his mind off of his failing career and filled his nights with a much greater joy. It would seem that watching others be happy rubbed off on him in turn. It was never about being happier than anyone else, but he felt alive when he could please others. That seemed to turn the tables he was looking forward to as he was hoping for one day that he would have others wait on him.

It was nights later that he found himself at a party hosted by none other than Louis. There was no way in knowing that he would be there or that Harry would agree with Niall to work at the event. He could not have known that any of this was going happen, but it did anyway.

Someone brushed against him as he turned to serve drinks, holding the tray at almost shoulder level. The glasses clinked against each other and a hand shot out to steady his shaky form.

"Forgive me. I never pay attention." Harry gazed back at a man inches taller than him. It was a little unsettling at the man's height, but Harry had seen taller and the man wasn't as intimidating as Louis could seem. He was sure by now that he would never find someone that could rattle his bones like he could.

“Sorry.” The word slipped out before he could think. He felt like an idiot after the man had apologized to him.

The man gave him a small smile. He stared back at him before he turned to the side. Harry watched him for a moment, confused until he turned back around, the smile still on his face. “Care to join me? I’m no quite familiar with the guests. If that’s not too noticeable.”

He scratched the back of his neck, tilting his head to cover his blushing face.

Harry’s jaw went slack and he almost agreed until he came back to reality. He shook his head and he felt bad when he saw the man’s sad expression.

He held the tray in his hand a little higher. “I would, but I’m supposed to serve you.”

It must have been the first time the man had seen what he was wearing because his cheeks flushed even further. “Sorry, I hadn’t realized.”

Harry wanted to save him off, but he felt responsible for the man’s confusion. Instead, he held out his free hand. “Harry Styles.”

The man’s form relaxed some. He took Harry’s hand. “Nick Grimshaw.”

He gave the place another once over before meeting Harry’s eyes. He was thinking about something, something he felt wasn’t really worth his trouble. “Look, would you like to talk a bit after your shift? I don’t want your boss thinkin’ you’re beatin’ one’s gums but--”

By the look on Nick’s face, it was hard to even think about turning the poor man down. If he wasn’t mistaken, this was probably one of the first outings here. That took him back to his first day here in the big city. He had no one to turn to, just a small cramped apartment and a small corner to scrap up any change he could.

Though Harry saw a small piece of himself in him, he knew that they weren’t all that similar. The man was wearing a gray tailored suit and a white button up. It was more than anything Harry could afford then and now. And if Nick was attending flashy parties like this, he probably didn’t need any help.

But there was still a strong hold on him inside. His mind was telling him that he didn’t need to do this, but his heart was saying that it was all right. Nothing bad could come out of helping out someone lonely. The man only wanted to talk to someone and that just so happened to be him.

“I wouldn’t mind.” Nick let out a sigh.

“I’ll be at the bar.”

When the man disappeared from his sight he placed his hand in the pocket of his pants and walked back to the kitchen. The glasses were filled with nothing more than apple juice. It almost made him giggle to think that there could be two different sides to the great Mr. Tomlinson. One part of him cared nothing for the laws and another part of him wanted safety for his guests. Which one was the real one?

He thought back to the night on the balcony. There was something strange about his eyes. They were normal yet he couldn’t shake off the feeling that something lay beneath them. Lying was natural for someone of his nature. Putting on a mask for the sake of his business wouldn’t be too hard to believe because Harry had seen it many times. The world was full of liars and people climbing for the sake of money.

Wealth and fame.

“If I had a clam for every time I caught you slackin’ off.”

A hand swatted him on the back, jolting him from the daydream he hadn’t noticed he’d lapsed into.

Niall wrapped his arm around his shoulder, pulling him close. The glasses on the tray clinked again, threatening to shatter if they moved wrongly.

“You’d be broke,” Harry replied, shouldering past him. He walked through the kitchen doors and Niall followed closely behind him.

“It could not be worse than I am now. It’s tragic I must endure this lavish life for so long. Parties and beautiful women are the worst.” The blond dramatically sighed, throwing his head back with the back of his hand pressed to his forehead. Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. His attention was drawled back to setting the tray onto the counter.

“You’ve spied one?”

Niall broke out in a grin. “She’s a doll.”

Harry gave a snort. “What’s she like?”

“Blue eyes, blond hair. I’d reckon she could make anyone fall head over heels and I was no exception,” he said, flicking an unknown speck from the counter. “Had a kisser red as a cherry.”

“Seems like an unlikely stumble. Sure she had no daddy?”

The look Niall sent him warned him to keep his mouth shut, but Harry felt no real danger. The boy was only sour at the thought that this dream woman could somehow only be a dream. It would soon pass as the many other women who had caught the young man’s attention. This one would only be a stop before he was onto the next one, his heart only becoming stronger as time went on.

Harry was not so sure if that was a good thing or not. It all depended on how he looked at it and he was never very optimistic.

“Anyway!” He turned while dusting his hands off. “A fellow asked me to join him for a drink.”

Niall couldn’t keep the surprise from his face. “Really?”

Harry gave a small nod. His hands worked on the knot on his apron before he felt helping hands. He was about to give his thanks to who he thought was Niall, but was startled when his eyes met a different shade of blue than what he had been expecting.

“And who is this fellow?”

Louis’ voice was close to his ear. His breath tickled and Harry’s heart skipped.

“His name his Nick.”

Louis took a moment, pausing his work on the knot. “Grimshaw?”

The air around them felt thicker. When Harry turned to meet Niall’s eyes, he found no one to be there. He was kind of glad that he had left him. With how close Louis was standing, it would have been hard to explain. Being caught with murder would have been more acceptable.

The working hands left their place at the knock, snaking around Harry’s waist. They pulled him back until his back was flushed against Louis’ front. Unlike his commanding nature, his movements were hesitant. His hands paused midway.

Louis let out a cough. “Then I shouldn’t keep you waiting.”

The warm hands fell, but the knot was sharply tugged and the apron fell to the floor with a soft thud. Harry heard Louis’ footsteps and heard when he left the room, but he could feel his presence around him. He couldn’t quite remember how to breathe. All he could think about were those warm hands and the soft voice that spoke in his ear.

What could he possibly do with himself now? Now that he’s been touched in such a way, it felt as if he might never be the same, not inside nor out.

He licked his lips and ran a quick hand through his hair. Tugging at his curls, he willed his being to pull itself together.

Should he feel shocked, sickened, disgusted? Though he wanted to believe that he never asked for anything, maybe he had. Was he unaware of his body? Had he somehow given the man the wrong thought?

Suddenly he felt ill.

His breathing slowed and his heart wasn't racing as fast as it had. A drink. He needed a drink. Though he found it funny, his feelings weren't to be ignored. When he was younger his mother had always told him to listen to what his heart was saying because he might regret it later on. But that was so long ago that he forgot how to listen. When he left home, running after his ambition without thinking at all, he had been listening to his heart. Why couldn't he hear it now?

It was as if the voice was speaking in a language of its own. No words could be understood, only sounding of giberous.

He exited the kitchen without a thought. It never occurred to him that he still had a job to do; he only wanted leave and cower away from the world in the safety of his bed. There he could at least pretend that the harshness of the city outside wouldn't be able to get him. No one, not even Niall, could pull him from that and he would be able to feel safe. At least, he wanted to believe that.

The guests only seemed to have multiplied by the time he was reaching the back entrance. It would only seem odd for him to exit through the front door, the same place where more well-dressed guests were arriving. The way he was dress would no doubt give his position away and raise a few eyebrows. He was walking past the bar when an arm reached out and touched his shoulder.

"I never thought you would be a dishonorable man. But I must have been the fool to take your word without knowing you longer."

Harry was a little shaken and confused when he heard the voice speaking to him. He looked up and was about to tell the person off when he recognized the man as Nick. A frown worked its way over Harry's face, but then felt embarrassed when he remembered his promise to stay and chat with him.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't feeling all that well," he spoke, hoping Nick would understand. They hardly knew each other, seeing as they had only met thirty minutes ago. It was not enough time to actually make any progress in any type of relationship.

Nick was holding onto a glass and looked a little uncomfortable holding it. Harry tilted his head.

"Would you like me to take that for you?"

The man continued to stare at him. He was jolted from his thoughts and looked down at the untouched glass. "Oh. No, that's fine."

The corner of Harry's mouth turned up. "You don't seem to fit the image. I can see what you meant about what you said now."

Nick nodded. "From where I'm from I wouldn't need to actually work for attention."

That must have been it then. The man wasn't used to not having attention from everyone in the room. Harry would bet that the place he had come from wasn't always crawling with other interesting people. Here, in this city, everyone was fighting for their spotlight, though it was most likely to come with a price.

Harry shuffled from foot to foot. He didn't want to be rude and leave the man to find his own in such a large room. He himself wasn't all that use to the city or the large parties that he had been dragged to lately. But he could remember the lonely nights, so cold and so frightening.

He coughed into the palm of his hand. Nick's eyes were on him, not glaring or staring really, but only looking with curiosity. Was there something on his face?

He brushed his hand against his cheek. No. There was nothing there.

"What do you do then? Or what have you come to the city to chase? Everyone who comes to Chicago is looking for something," Harry said, speaking the plainest truth.

Nick lifted the glass to his lips, but never took a drink. "Acting."

"Really?" Harry's grin couldn't have grown any bigger. "Me as well! Have you had any success?"

The older man looked a little taken aback but nodded with mutual excitement. "A few here and there. I'm working on a film right now with a well-known producer. Ben Winston he goes by. Have you heard of him?"

"Yes, the one who filmed Daylight?"

"That's the one. Good man, but you'd need a taste for his humor." Nick's voice faded to a hush and he took a look around the room. "That's actually why I'm here. I'm promoting and looking for others to join the project. It's not like anything you would find out today what with everyone looking for romance or humor. It's a little dark and no one wants to take a dive in that direction."

Harry paused to ponder the man’s words. “Scouting?”

Nick hummed in agreement. “Yes, quite so. Haven’t found anyone yet. I hadn’t pegged you for an actor but now I can see it. You’ve got--”

He waved his hand in the air. “--an air about you.”

A sudden deja vu came over Harry. Those words were quite like the ones he had thought to describe Louis, almost identical.

He felt the warmth of a hand on his shoulder and he jumped.

“Sorry,” Nick said, “but you looked a little...dazed. Is everything alright?”

Harry nodded though he was sure nothing was alright. “I think I’ve been on my feet for too long.”

“Then let’s have a seat.” Harry would have turned down the offer, but at the moment he couldn’t keep his vision straight. The people standing near them were turning into doubles and he couldn’t quite keep his thoughts from mushing together. Thinking about Louis was the last thing he needed to be doing right now. He’d spent enough time wondering about him, now it was time to move on.

But he couldn’t tell his mind what to do and so he did his best to force his thoughts onto Nick’s voice.

Sitting at the bar made all the difference. He hadn’t expected such a large change, but he guessed the weight lifted off of his feet was enough to keep him from passing out. It would be unbearable to do such a thing with so many people surrounding them.

He swung on his stool to face Nick. “Theater is it then?”

Nick had become a little more relaxed. Harry was not sure if it was the drink he’d been sipping at regularly since he met up with him or if he was just losing himself in their casual conversation. Whatever it was it was working far greater for Nick than it was for Harry because he couldn’t keep his hands from shaking.

“Indeed. I’ve traveled with a couple of shows, but I’m looking forward to this one. Though I would love to try my hand at moving pictures, there doesn’t seem to be a large audience for it.”

He took a sip from his glass, his eyes catching Harry’s over the rim. When he lowered the glass he smacked his lips together lightly, his tongue running over his top lip. “Would you be interested in the show?”

Harry was dumbstruck. His mouth opened wide, but no words could be made.

“You’d have to audition of course and I could not guarantee you a spot, but I know Ben personally. I’m sure you’re someone he’d love to work with,” Nick said, setting his glass on the bar and folding his hands in his laps.

“Yes!” The word came fumbling out before Harry could think it over. Nick looked shocked but his expression melted away into a smile.

“Your enthusiasm will be enjoyed. Where can I go if I should need to contact you?”

“The Emblem, if you know where that is.”

“Mm. I know it.”

The conversation carried away from then from that point. They talked more about Nick’s other productions and what he’d learned along the way. Harry found him amazed about the accomplishments the man had reached at such a young age. It was strange to think that this could be him in a few years if he played his cards right and snagging this opportunity could be it. Just thinking about sent his heart racing with hope.

What a day it would be if he could attend parties like this without the help of others, but because people wanted him to be there and because he’d done all the hard work himself. It would take time and patience, but in the end, it would all be worth it.

It had all been going well until Harry felt a presence behind him.

Nick’s expression turned dark and his hand balled into a fist.

“Louis, our humble host. Have you been well?”

Louis stood between them, one hand resting on his hip, the other holding a cigarette. He looked Nick over. A sly smile slid across his face, tempting Nick to speak out of turn. But he wasn’t pushing his power like he could be. Like Nick had said, Louis was their host and a host never did anything to displease their guests.

“I am, but Harry here is under weather, don’t you think?”

He didn’t give the other man any time to reply. His hand crept around Harry’s waist. Nick’s eyes followed the motion and the frown on his face deepened. Harry could feel his cheeks burning red and growing up to the tips of his ears. The urge to run away was strong, but he had to resist. His eyes had gone wide the second he felt the hand on him. This was even more confusing that what had happened in the kitchen.

At least then he could have brushed it off, though he doubted he could have. This right here wasn’t something he could sweep away from his memory. There were others around, eyes that were watching their every move. He should be getting used to this, especially when it came with the dream he was chasing, but no matter how much he dreamed, he would never have imagined it turning out like this.

Something in Nick’s eyes flashed and his body tensed up. His eyes felt like daggers on Harry’s skin, cutting deep into his flesh.

Nick’s voice was calm. “It seems that way.”

“Join me Hazza. Niall would love to have you back.”

Harry was lead away from the bar by Louis’ strong hold. Behind him he could see Nick knocking back the rest of his drink. When he set the glass back down Harry could have sworn he could hear the glass cracking.

<><><>

Liam dusted the counters and put away the clean glasses. He looked over his fine work and turned to grab more boxes of glasses to put away when he noticed Harry sitting on a bar stool, his elbow resting on the bar top.

“Was it a late night?”

Harry shook from his stupor. He blinked at Liam before he shook his head. “Wasn’t like that.”

Liam made a funny face, setting the now clean glass down and walking towards him. They had met only a few days before and surprisingly they got along. Working at The Emblem wasn’t as hard to do as Harry had first thought it was going to be. Though, right now they weren’t at the secret bar. They were above it, where the daytime customers could come crawling in for a mid-day drink, but of course there was no alcohol sold. Strange as it was, The Forefront was only to keep suspicious doubters away.

The ones around the neighborhood who thought there was something illegal going on here were right, but the way things were set up (and who had set them up), kept them from getting too close to the real answer.

“Then what is it like?” he asked, leaning over the counter. Harry hated how he wanted to spill his feelings out to him. That’s what made Liam so good at his job: he could make anyone talk. As a bartender it must have come natural for him. Someday, Harry wished he could become the same, but for now he was a novice, a young one that was taken care of.

It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it felt like he was depending on others too much. No one had said anything, not Niall or Liam. They would have said something, wouldn’t they have?

“Last night,” he started off, but he wasn’t so sure about his words. They tasted sour in his mouth.

Liam hummed to encourage him to continue.

Harry took a shaky breath and continued on. “Mr. Tomlinson was there and...”

He tried so hard to finish his words, but they wouldn’t come out. There wasn’t much to say about what had happened last night. Liam knew what kind of things took place there and yet he couldn’t let it slip from his mouth. There were people out there that might take his words in the wrong way. Though, they might not be wrong to think of it that way.

It was true that Harry’s infatuation with the mysterious man was beyond that of admiration of hard work. If one was smart to figure out, they would know that something was taking place between the two.

But Harry was very positive that this emotion was only one sided and if Louis ever found out he would surely have Harry killed.

“Tomlinson. What about him?” Liam gave him a questioning look. “From what I’ve seen, he’s just another gangster running the city.”

He gave a tsk of disgust. “It’s a shame such a beautiful city is ruled by ugly figures such as them.”

Harry wanted to object, tell him that they weren’t all like that.

But he knew it was futile.

If he wanted his dark secret to die, he would keep his mouth shut and never talk to Louis Tomlinson again.

 


	4. Chapter Four

Two weeks had passed since he had seen Louis Tomlinson. He tried to tell himself that it was for the better and really, the man probably had better things to do than entertain someone like him. Niall spoke less about him as the days went by and when someone would bring him up in a conversation he would talk about something else. Harry was a little thankful for that. If he didn’t have any self control he would have more than likely thought about nothing but the blue eyed man.

And while he was saving up money and trying to keep off of the streets, a letter came in the mail for him. He was not use to receiving mail, not here and not at home. The second he had held it in front of him, the cursive writing catching his eye, his heart jumped with joy. He couldn’t have opened it quick enough. Once he did, the smell of fresh flowers wafted to his nose and he inhaled the familiar scent of his mother.

The letter was simple, to his disappointment. It would have been asking too much for a longer letter, one that would have taken up more of Anne’s time than she could spare. Ever since Harry’s father had died, she had to take up more work to keep the house in good shape and provide for herself and Gemma. But Gemma was there to help out which lessened Harry guilt to some extent. Most days he would apologize until his mother begged him to stop. It was all that he could do. He couldn’t provide support or money, not when he was struggling not the starve.

He could never believe here when she said that it was okay. How could he when he was suppose to take up after his father and be the man of the house? How could he have left them behind like that?

The details of the letter were short enough to repeat and by the time Harry had packed his bags, he had the whole thing memorized.

Please come home. We miss you.

There was, of course, a bus ticket.

It had been a while since Harry had felt his mother’s touch. Her warm smile always made his day seem a little better than it was. She had a way of making all his problems feel small and almost easy to overcome. There was no one, he felt, that could compare to her except maybe his sister.

Gemma had inherited their mother’s spirit. She was cheery and couldn’t stay down even if she tried. He wished he could be more like them, but they had their own problems and they were all grownups. He couldn’t honestly want to burden him with the troubles he had to face. Surely when he was older he wouldn’t want his own children dragging him around in their own messes after he had raised them. But everyone was different.

He had told Niall the next day that he would be leaving for a few days. He didn’t have to worry about his job because someone was scheduled for his time and he didn’t have any auditions set for the time he would be gone. From what he calculated it would take him a day to get home and back, he would spend the entire weekend their and be back home by Tuesday. It wasn’t much of a kick to his paycheck as he had feared. Most of that had been on Niall’s part.

When he had arrived at his old home, that was when it became hard to move. Up until that point he hadn’t really thought about the hard emotions that he would have to keep inside. He felt like crying but he didn’t want them to see. It was his own doing, moving out to the big city, but it had been so long since he had seen either Gemma or Anne. This was it.

He had raised his hand to knock on the door, but before he could, the door swung open and he was enveloped into a strong embrace. There was no hesitation in his this hug, no resistance on his part either and soon he was holding back. Gemma’s strong hugs were another thing that he had missed about being out here.

She pulled back and held his face in the palm of her hands. “God, it’s so good to see you.”

She kissed him on the cheek and then proceeded to pull him inside.

The house hadn’t changed much since he had left. Though it felt like it had been ages ago, it was very hard to believe that he had been here just a couple years ago. The paint was the brightest yellow as ever and the carpet was a light gray. Of course the living room shared space with the dining room and there were only two bedrooms but what could he have asked for when he was growing up?

Outside there was a swing attached to the tree with some rope him and Gemma had found when he was fourteen and there was a lake fifteen minutes away. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary then and it was normal for the kids that grew up around here, but in the city, the place that he lived now, no one would want others to know their past if it was the same as Harry’s. Living in a town made up of about two hundred was worse than killing a man.

“Harry? Harry, is that you?” Anne appeared in the kitchen doorway, drying her hands on a dish towel. She caught sight of Harry and smiled. “It’s you!”

She opened her arms and he lifted her up and spun her around. Her dressed twirled and then settled when he sat her down on the floor. Tears twinkled in her eyes but she covered them with her hand.

“Oh, gosh. Don’t look at me now. I’m making a fool of myself.”

Harry laughed, but there was a lump forming in his throat. He could feel the sting of tears as well. “Cry mama. I’m happy to see you too.”

Just like the house, Anne hadn’t changed either. It was as if time had stopped while he was away exploring the world. It was almost as if he hadn’t ever left, but so much had changed. There was no way he could forget about Chicago or about the people he had met there. Even if he tried to come back here and start his life over, it wouldn’t ever work. No matter how much he loved Anne and Gemma.

Anne nodded her head as tears streamed down her face. She took Harry’s hand.

“I’ve cooked a feast. We’ll talk and cry after we have had our fill.”

Harry’s smile grew wider. His mom always seemed to know how to take his mind off of things.

<><><>

Harry’s stomach ached at the amount he had eaten in the span of thirty minutes. And though he loved his mother’s cooking, it was hard to eat so much when he had been so use to small meals back at his apartment in the city.

Anne reached for her glass of water. The ice clinked against the glass. “You look so handsome, just like your father.”

Harry smiled, shyly looking down at his plate. By now he should have been use to the way his mother liked to compare him to his father. It was one of the sole reasons he loved what he was doing. Money wasn’t a reason he had been so enthused about acting, but it wasn’t bad to think about.

“He would be proud,” she said, leaning to brush her free hand on his cheek. Gemma was smiling just as big as the rest of them.

It was good to see them and it would be hard to leave them again.

<><><>

Harry actually thought about not going back to Chicago the night before his train. It was one of those fleeting thoughts that stayed for just a second to catch your attention, but you soon thought better of it. That was what it had been like. It was there and then he brushed it away because it was nonsense. Yes, he wanted to stay and never leave Anne and Gemma’s side, but he had a life of his own. He couldn’t leave it.

But he could. All he would have to do was tell Anne that things had not worked out like he had planned and she would welcome him home with open arms. At least, that’s what he was sure would happen. Though all that might be true, he couldn’t give this up. It felt too much like giving up on himself and his father’s ghost.

When he arrived in Chicago, he had the sudden feeling that his father was looking down on him, watching his every move. He got the sense that the man could hear his thoughts and knew what he was going to do next. It wasn’t creepy, but unnerving.

He had shaken off the feeling and gone straight to bed when he got to his apartment.

The feeling didn’t hit him again until he was sitting in his living room, reading a book that he had found on the steps. He felt a presence over his shoulder. It was silly of him to think such a thing, but the thought was lost when someone knocked on the door.

There was only one person who would knock so obnoxiously on his door at this early of an hour. It was before lunch, just about the time when the neighbors would be getting up to get about to their business.

“What is it Niall that you have to wake everyone up?” Harry flung the door open and waved his arm to welcome the blond in.

Niall slapped him on the shoulder as he walked by and strolled into the small apartment. “It’s my day off Harry, my good boy! And what better way to spend a day off then seeing the biggest party of the year?”

Harry scowled. “Shouldn’t it be ‘attending’ the biggest party of the year?”

:Niall waved the correction off. “Who cares?! There are far more serious matters. We must attend. Shall we?”

The boy held his arm out in mockery. Harry tsked and walked away to sit on his couch. Niall noticed his hand reaching for the book he had set on the table. He scooped it up right when Harry was about to pick it up and turned so that he couldn’t get it back.

“You must attend! Listen to what I have to say before you decline!”

Harry crossed his arms, but didn’t say another word. Niall grinned. His fingers flipped through the book, but didn’t pay attention to what words lay on the pages. He began walking around the room, staring up at the ceiling. A finger came up to touch his chin as be spoke.

“I’ve seen that you haven’t been out these past couple of days. You need time to socialize with the great people of this city.” Harry sighed.

“Ah-ah!” Niall wiggled his finger in Harry’s direction. “Don’t mope on me. I’m not the one who is shutting himself out from the world. Live while you can my friend! The girls are waiting for you. They haven’t stopped talking about you since the day you left.”

He stopped. An unreadable expression came upon his face.

“And Louis Tomlinson has invited you.”


	5. Chapter Five

Harry sometimes wonders if he will ever be able to turn Niall’s ideas away. He never fails to know when a party is being thrown or where to find the best booze. But it isn’t good for Harry’s head or his career. He hasn’t been doing much of anything lately, not with all the headaches he’s been suffering through for the past few weeks. It was a good thing he had decided, or was told, to visit his mother and sister. If he hadn’t he was sure he would have attended two more parties that week and then worked again the following weekend.

Niall had invited Liam and Zayn along though the two showed no real interest in the gathering either. While Niall was bubbly and excited, the three of them were sore on the eyes. Their faces must have been glummer than anyone’s before and it seemed to show when they walked into the apartment.

The layout had obviously not changed since the last time they were here, but the theme was different than the last. Gold was strung about. White with gold trim couches were pressed against the white walls and gold curtains were hung up in front of the large windows. The whole area looked completely different and if Harry didn’t know it, he would have thought this was a different apartment.

It wasn’t long into the party when he noticed the familiar blue eyes from across the room. They stalked him but never moved to his side of the room. A shiver ran through him. He couldn’t describe the feeling and he didn’t want to. It was better to leave it like it was. Open in the air, he wouldn’t have to make an assumptions about the feelings that were laying underneath.

“What work do you do, Zayn? I can’t imagine that you are an actor like Harry here.” Niall wasn’t the only one making conversation. Liam was sitting across Zayn and Harry, his hands folded neatly in his lap. There was a couple of giggling girls filtering through the room, but they were too busy with themselves to take notice of the boys sitting in the corner.

Zayn messes with the box of matches in his hand. “No. A painter actually.”

Liam his eyebrows. “Really.”

Harry notices right away that it isn’t a question. Zayn seems to notice too as he makes no move to answer. Silence hangs in the air for a moment before a young blond woman excitingly walks up to their corner. She straightens her hairband and bites her lip.

“I wondered if I could join you,” she says and Harry’s sure the rest of them can see how her eyes wander towards him. He can smell her perfume from here and it should make him want to open his arms wide and greet her as he should any lady.

But the feeling is lost on him. She’s not ugly. On the contrary, she’s a doll, a girl that any young lad would want to keep by his side, but he can’t keep his mind from wandering to the blue eyes, that now feel like ice picks in his neck.

Against all judgment, he moves over, closer to Zayn’s side. The young blond sits between him and Niall, smiling even bigger than when she had been walking towards them. He wanted to smile back at, be nice and not rude. Something was holding him back though. The corner of his mouth tried to raise itself, but the rest of his features wouldn’t follow suit. They stayed rooted where they were. He couldn’t help from wondering how terrifying he must have looked.

“Smoke?” Niall held out the cigarette he had been smoking to the girl.

“Why, yes. Thank you.” She took it with no hesitation, wrapping her gloved fingers around the fag.

Harry watched her up until the moment she held it to her mouth. He turned away to settle his gaze to a painting hanging up on the opposite wall. It was a simple painting of a woman wearing a gold dress and holding a drink to her mouth.

“And are you having a good time?”

It took Harry a moment to realize that the question had been directed at him. He tilted his head, his eyes still trained on the painting. It was another beat before he turned to look at the unknown woman. He didn’t know anything about her or her name and in return she didn’t know him. They were strangers and as strangers do, they talked until they found that they liked one another.

What beautiful eyes she had and yet they couldn’t compare to the ones that he shouldn’t find beautiful. She could have been the one if they had been in a different time and a different place. If maybe he hadn’t fallen in love so many nights ago, they might have been the perfect couple. At his side she could have been the mother of his children, the one to give him life on those days that he felt the world was ending. If only they had been born different people.

“Yes, I think so. And you?” He asked in a hushed tone. Niall was laughing at something Liam had said. A joke of some sort if he was right.

The woman smiled, looking away bashfully. She couldn’t be falling, could she? It was far too early to break a heart.

“I am,” she said and then held out her hand. “It’s Sherrie, though I don’t believe you asked.”

Harry gave her a radiant smile. He took her hand and pressed his lips to the warm skin. “Harry Styles though you didn’t ask either.”

Their eyes meet.

He wants to believe that there is something there, that he can reverse what curse has been laid over him. Everything that he has known since he was born seems to mean nothing now that he is here. A white film is over his eyes. It blocks Sherrie’s face and what life could be here if he tried.

But in some other world, if he chose to take this path, he knows that he wouldn’t be happy. There would be nothing there no matter how hard he tried. Day after day he would be fooling himself and breaking what little happiness they could have together. The children they would birth and memories they would keep, to him they would mean nothing because at the end of day he sees blue.

Blue eyes.

“Tossing names about that no one is asking for, well, that doesn’t seem like a party thing to do.”

It was far too late for Harry to react. Louis Tomlinson plopped down beside the young Sherrie and put his arm around her shoulder. Harry watched as she melted into the embrace, seeming to forget about Harry’s entire existence. After their conversation and her suggestions, it kind of stung that he could be brushed off so easily.

Sherrie wasn’t fazed at all and instead of being ashamed of her actions, she pressed in closer to Louis. “But who wouldn’t want to know your name? Eyes follow you where ever you go.”

A smirk pulled at Louis’ lips. He leaned in closer to the blond but looked straight on at Harry. “It’s the same for you, darling. I don’t know a man that could resist you.”

He cocked his head.

“Or do I?”

If there was a double meaning she didn’t catch it.

Harry could feel his breath catching in his throat. He couldn’t describe what he felt at that moment but he knew it wasn’t good. His eyes fell down to the hand on Sherrie’s shoulder. The fingers were clean and a light pink. There was something there that he could not put a name to and if he ever did find out what it was, he was sure that he would soon want to forget.

It wasn’t good, he could feel that without a doubt. This was never meant to happen.

Whatever this feeling was, it wasn’t right.

He left the fingers and looked to those blue eyes. They stared back at him, almost asking a question, but he could not make it out.

Louis finally broke what felt like the longest stare. “Darling, do you mind if we step out? It’s business that I think you’ll find a bore.”

Sherrie smiled and nodded. “Then this must call for another drink! I’ll be sure that you’ll join my company after?”

The smile on his face didn’t falter. “Of course. What is a party without drinking and a young doll?”

The statement seemed a little belittling to Harry but the girl drank it up as if it was another alcoholic drink. She seemed to have no limits when it came to Mr. Tomlinson and could he being talking when he had been staring at him for longer than what was acceptable?

Louis stood up from the couch and gave Harry an expectant look. He gestured to the empty balcony with a light hand. “Lead the way Mr. Styles.”

The way he said his name shouldn’t have affected him as it did. It wasn’t right in his mind to react this way, but what could he do? Controlling his feelings weren’t working all that well and he was sure that he wasn’t being all too subtle.

His mind reeled back to the nights before when he had first set eyes of Mr. Tomlinson. Now he questioned everything that had ever happened to him in the years before. His childhood seemed bleak and unreal as did this moment in time and any other moment that involved Louis. There was more to him, he feared. Why should he fear that Louis was more than a stereotypical gangster? Should that not be a good thing? What person would want to stow upon another a curse of becoming something so evilly rooted in society?

Harry walked past the circles of chattering people. Their voices were not all that loud though they felt as if they were screaming in his ear. Everything had gotten louder since he had stood up from where he had been sitting. He kind of missed the comfort and security the corner had given him. He even kind of liked talking to Sherrie though she seemed to lost interest in him. They were having a nice conversation until Louis had come to the rescue.

Or had it been his misfortune that the man had shown up at such a time? He was not sure of that either and one had to ask. What was he sure of? It could not be his own thoughts or his own judgment because that had proven yet again, to be bias of certain things. Certain things being the color blue.

Ah, yes. The color blue. That too would haunt his mind for the rest of his life. How trivial things were turning out to be and it wasn’t even midnight. Things could only go down here from now on and he hoped he was prepared for it. If he wasn’t...

That was an entirely different matter.

When they stepped out onto the balcony, a gust of wind hit Harry’s face, sending his hair blowing back. The curls shook in the breeze, quaking at the gentle waves. He closed his eyes as the wind stung and tears prickled at the corners. Louis stepped out beside him, seeming to not be affected by the heavy winds and instead made work to shut the doors. The curtains were thin enough so that light could filter through them, giving birth to disfigured shadows on the floor.

Harry watched as the shadows changed forms and bent forwards and backwards. With every move from the people inside, they changed shape and took on different bodies. They were strangely beautiful but soon they took on ugly shapes when a certain someone stepped up to him.

He stared into the deep blue eyes, blinking and wondering what they would do if he were to lean in. They stared intently, never breaking the silent war they were having with each other. Neither of them, Harry assumed, knew what they were playing for, but here they were, playing the game and raising the stakes with every move.

Louis lifted the cigarette in hand to his mouth. He took an inhale and the smoke rolled off his tongue and ascended to the starry sky.

Harry’s eyes flickered to the pink mouth.

Louis took another drag. “Is it okay?”

Harry didn’t look away. “Hm?”

He wasn’t sure what he was asking. The questions fell on empty ears and the only thing that registered in his mind was the hand coming towards him.

The hand cupped his chin in a strong hold and forced him to stay still. He was shaken from his stupor and his brows knitted in confusion. But before he could push away the strong hand, Louis was prying his mouth open and coming closer.

“Wha--?”

Soft lips brushed his and he was breathless once again. The strange feeling grew stronger as the lips pressed hard against his, but not so hard that they would be kissing. It was seconds later that he tasted the smoke on his tongue and understood why the lips were close but not so close. He swore that it wasn’t disappointment at the pit of his stomach, it was more like relief.

He breathed the smoke in, tasting more than just the ash. Mixed in was the slight taste of mint and what he could only identify as Louis’ own. It was more than he could handle at the moment, when his mind was running in a frenzy. He couldn’t decide of he liked the warmth against his body or if he wanted more than anything to flee the scene. Maybe if he was his old self he would have run away, pushed Louis aside hard enough so that he could dislodge himself from his tight grip.

Picturing what it could have been felt wrong when they were standing his close. Louis’ hand fell away, drifting down towards his hip. He could move away now if he wanted to. This could all be over and they wouldn’t speak about it.

But he stayed where he was and tried to forget who he was and where they were. The most he could do was become lost in the moment, block out that if they were caught it would be the end of the both of them.

Soon the smoke drift far away with the wind, leaving only behind the calm memory of its birth. Its existence was no more and when Harry opened his eyes, his breath still hitched when they met blue. He knew they would be there and yet he couldn’t help but become surprised. This was no dream. He wouldn’t wake up and carry on his usually day. Something was deeply wrong and he had no idea how to fix it.

Louis stepped back, more calm than Harry would have figured. After what they had done, did he have no idea what would come of this? Or how disgusting and wrong this was?

For two men to be so close, inhaling each others breath, it was unlawful and dishonorable.

It was a sin.

“Gods, don’t speak that way.” Louis words hit him like a freight train. Harry slapped his hand onto his mouth. He hadn’t honestly known he had said that out loud. He must have said it loudly enough for Louis to hear over the screaming wind.

He gave Harry a pointed look. “You can’t honestly believe in that crap, can you? I’ve known smarter idiots than you, Harry. You should live up to my expectations.”

Though he regretted his thoughts, he hated how Louis turned them around on him. “Don’t speak about me as if I’m something to be appraised. At least I’ve thinking about the consequences.”

Louis laughed, raising an eyebrow. He leaned back against the railing and lifted the cigarette higher. “And what more can they do to us? Hushed, suppressed to the brink of insanity. They’ve done it all, babe.”

He turned to look over the city. “What I do is far worse than what I am.”

Harry stood in silence. The look on Louis’ face was short of despair, filled with an emotion that he had only seen a few times in his life. He’d seen people cry, yell, and scream, but they were nothing compared to the composed features upon Louis’ face.

And in the blooming lights of the beautiful and alive city, he saw those blue eyes glisten.

<><><>

Harry wasn’t sure what to make of the situation. Louis would looking far off into the distance, his mind far way from the party and Harry was not about to pull him back. It was nice to sit in the quite for a while and watch the man’s features, but the air was chilly. If it wasn’t for the loneliness and the small ache in his chest to comfort the man, it might have been nice.

The fact remained the same. No matter how he looked at it his feelings were turning into something he truly didn’t want to face. They stood next to each other, the smoke from Louis’ cigarette finally fading away as the flame burned out and all that was left was the butt. His fingers flicked the ashes away and they blew in the wind. They were carried far across the city, Harry imagined. It probably wasn’t the truth because he wished that it would be.

His heart thudded when the silence was broken as Louis said, “I’m going to get a drink.”

What was Harry to say to that? So instead of speaking, he followed as he was best at that. It would seem the whole time that he was only following him, tagging along because he couldn’t lead his own mind. He shook his head at the thoughts. They were cold towards him and he wasn’t sure why.

If his mother could see him now, would she be proud or ashamed? It was hard to think over the talking from inside. Once they opened the door in was like opening a flood gate. The whispers and yells wrapped around them like a thick blanket. He was swallowed up by the lies and the wild stories. He’d heard many things while he had been living in the city and many of the stories being told were ones that he had heard.

What surprised him was how Harry had heard the story of the bright young man that ruled over Chicago so many times, but he had never believed it. Now that the legend was here in front of him, leading him back to his party, it was hard to understand how he had failed to piece it all together.

He stared at Louis’ hair, his eyes catching the way the light bounced off the locks. The moment struck a chord inside of him and for some reason it felt familiar.

It was a memory deep inside of him that it reminded him of. He frowned. But before he could think any further, a body crashed into his and a hand darted out to stabilize him.

“Harry?”

Harry turned at the call of his voice and found Nick of all people standing before him. He was dressed much like everyone else, in a casual suit, the top button undone and the jacket somewhere unknown. He looked good and relaxed. Harry caught himself thinking the unnecessary thoughts. Shaking his head, he offered the man a smile.

“Indeed. I didn’t know you would be here tonight.”

Nick gave a sheepish smile, his hand falling from Harry’s arm. “I haven’t been able to contact you because of work. If I had known you were going to be here I would have been more excited to attend.”

It was then that Harry remembered Louis’ presence. With as much energy as Louis had Harry would have thought the man would have been out mingling with the rest of his guests, but no. He was standing beside them and growing closer with each step he took. It must have been the lights playing tricks with Harry for he thought he seen a glare in Louis’ eyes.

Harry swallowed as his eyes broke away from Louis and turned back to Nick. He licked his lips and said, “You were reluctant?”

It might have been the worst thing to say at the moment. He was not all that sure how Louis would react to find out that someone had not wanted to be here and had simply come because they were invited. But Nick didn’t seem like someone Louis would invite, he did, however, look like someone Louis might not like all that much.

Harry had no idea how he had come to that conclusion. Nick seemed like a nice man to him, given that he was trying to help Harry grow in his career. He had connections and Harry didn’t. If he were to lose this one person because of dislike, well, he would be very upset.

“Nick Grimshaw. It has been a long time since we’ve seen each other last.” Louis sidled up beside the two of them, smiling in a way Harry felt uneasy with towards Nick. “Have you been well?”

Though Louis’ words seem not harmful, Harry felt there was a different meaning behind his words. Looking at his eyes, he didn’t look all that well with talking to the other man. Harry didn’t utter a word, but he could feel a terrible feeling in the air. It was almost like Louis was going to do something Harry would not be okay with. It would be out of line to say something now, especially when Nick was right in front of them. He would have to have a word with him afterward.

But that didn’t seem like a good idea either. What had happened out on the balcony, where not could see, or so he hoped, was a breaking deal between the two of them.

Nick let out a nervous laugh. “Yes, I believe so. I see that you’ve taken off well with your business.”

“It’s been a journey,” Louis said, but paused. He looked thoughtful for a moment and then chuckled under his breath. “But you haven’t been doing well with acting from what I’ve heard, not that I’ve heard much about you at all.”

Louis grinned evilly. “It’s like you don’t exist at all.”

Harry couldn’t hold back the wince. He watched as the smile fell from Nick’s face.

“I’m sorry Nick, excuse us please.”

Harry took a hold of Louis’ arm, being careful not to pull him too hard, but he used more strength than what was needed. He couldn’t believe that Louis could go to such lengths just to tell Nick to leave them alone or to mind his own business. Insulting the man straight to his face wasn’t the best option out there and wasn’t a technique Harry liked all that much. Though, he guessed, it was better than spreading gossip about him.

No. They were both horrible and childish things to do and they should not be done.

There weren’t many places to go for privacy except for the balcony, but when Harry looked out there he found two others already occupying their abandoned spots. So instead of risking to be over heard, he lead Louis back to the bedrooms.

“Where is yours?” He turned back and asked.

Louis stared at him for a moment but snapped out of his stupor. “The last one on the right.”

It all came to Harry as he threw open the door and pulled Louis inside. He couldn’t understand what he was feeling or what he was about to do. There wasn’t anything special about what they had done on the balcony and this wasn’t even about it. This was about something else entirely. Louis had to learn to keep his mouth shut, for his own good and the good for Harry.

He was walking a thin line when it came down to it.

But Harry wasn’t going to say that to his face.

He thought it, but he would be a fool to say it to Louis’ face. So, he kept those ideas to himself and met Louis’ eyes.

“Are you going to make me go and apologize?” Harry could not see the look on his face much because of the poor lighting, but he could make out the twist of his smile. He thought this was all a big joke.

“You were rude and it wasn’t necessary,” he growled out. His face burned with anger and he couldn’t control it. He walked further into the room, turning away from Louis.

Louis laughed and crossed his arms. “I never invited him. He shouldn’t have shown up here if he wasn’t looking for a fight.”

“Because that justifies you being a knob towards him.”

Before Harry saw it coming, a hand yanked him back by the shoulder. Louis pressed his cheek against his and whispers in a low voice into his ear.

“It isn’t any of your business. I thought you’d know that by now.” He shoved Harry back, walking to the bed as if nothing had happened.

Harry held his breath, his arms stiff against his body. He tried to move, but he found it too painful to do so. It was none of his business, though, wasn’t it? He had looked into something he should not have and here he was, talking as if he was better than the man.

He watched as Louis sat down on the bed and loosened the collar of his shirt. He stared out the window, the moonlight leaking through and cascading down his sharp features. There was something different about him all right, but it wasn’t anything good.

Under all the beauty there was something dark.

<><><>

It was weeks later that Harry heard anything about Mr. Tomlinson again. While he was busy working at The Emblem he had not heard a drop of gossip about smuggling or the wonderful parties thrown by the infamous gangster. If Harry didn’t know better he would think the man had moved away from Chicago and settled down. Laughable was what it was. There was no way a man as free as Mr. Tomlinson would dream about moving away from the danger and the thrill of the beautiful city. Making money and having women hanging off his arm was only a bonus.

But as that may be so, the whispers of the curious people were never heard as long as Harry worked. It was in the late hours did he wish that he would hear just a drop of gossip. Even the talk of the past would have been better than nothing because the sound of silence gave him an uneasy feeling.

Then, one night when he wasn’t expecting anyone because of the intense rain, a man stepped into the bar, a hat on his head and a cigarette in his mouth. Liam was back in the storage room relaxing only because Harry had insisted on it. The older man had been working himself over and deserved a little break. The only reason he had agreed was because there was no one around to serve.

The stranger took his time to dry himself off, keeping his back to Harry. All Harry could make out was the shape and though he was curious enough to walk up there and talk, he didn’t feel like doing that. It would be best for the man to walk up here before approaching him.

You sound almost like your mother.

Wiping unconsciously at the bar with an old rag, he chuckled underneath his breath. He looked down at his hands. They stopped what they were doing, laying on the counter waiting for their next command. Staring at them, he thought of something silly. The rain, the sound of it pelting against the roof, reminded him of a day years ago when he was a young boy. He had grown up in a small town of lovely people, but among those people were others that weren’t so kind. But the memory he remembered then was a little hazy and much happier than the others.

<><><>

The rain fought against the wind and against Harry’s hands. He had tried to keep it from smacking into his face, from leaving red marks on his skin, but his hand were not strong enough. It was cold and he had lost his way home. The sun had set long ago and all the light he had to see from was the moon which wasn’t much help either.

He had wandered out tonight because he wanted to find a tree big enough for a tree house. The boys in the neighborhood, the older ones, had told stories about the tree houses they had built and how anyone could make one with the right tree. Harry had been enthralled immediately. The moment school had been dismissed he had set out to find the perfect tree.

But the only trees that would be big enough were in the large and dark forest east of the city. It wasn’t a place where kids were allowed to play, but Harry hadn’t thought about what his mother would say. She would understand once he showed her his master piece.

He had spotted a flicker of red between two trees before he heard a sound. It must be him, Harry’s only friend. Through all that he had seen in his youthful haze, that moment then would be his favorite. The leaves were moved to reveal the joyous face of a young boy, smiling and laughing as rain fell on his red cheeks. A red and soaked scarf was wrapped tightly around his neck, snug, but no longer serving its original purpose.

“Harry!” The boy’s face could not have been brighter.

Harry had seen the look many times before, most times before the boy got himself into trouble. The day before he had pulled a prank on one of the girls at school. Ms. Rose hadn’t thought it had been polite to pull the chair from underneath the girl even if the said girl had called him a nose-picker.

But as Harry’s mother had said many times before, two wrongs don’t make a right. Obviously the boy’s mother had never told him that or he had simply ignored the advice.

Harry was sure the boy had been too busy plotting his next adventure to listen to the advice.

The boy came running up to Harry, wiping the rain from his forehead. He opened his mouth and said—

<><><>

“Much better here then. The rain is horrid,” a voice said. Harry snapped from his daydream, focusing on the figure in front of him.

“Mr. Tomlinson,” he said, “Sorry. I hadn’t seen you there.”

As soon as he had said it he wanted to take it right back. From the look on Louis’ face he was a little taken aback, but not so much to say anything about it. Harry pressed his lips into a thin line and lifted the towel from the bar. He bawled it up in his fist, looking from Louis to the empty cups to his right.

With a shake in his voice he asked, “Can I get you something?”

Louis scratched at his stumble as if he was going over his next words over in his head. Harry would never admit to watching the man with a close eyes, never in his life, but the actions stole his eyes away. He would also never admit that he wondered what it would feel like to touch it, feel the strong jaw under his fingertips. And if his eyes traveled lower to the soft arch of Louis’ pink lips, no one needed to know that.

But that wasn’t Harry’s problem. The problem stayed the same ever since he had come back from Louis’ last party: he was falling into something greater than he had ever imagined. His problem was the fact that he knew what his mind was thinking, what he was thinking. Actions speak louder than words and what had happened on the balcony on that night had yelled miles for anyone to hear even if the yells were silent.

Like nightmares, the memory of that night played over in his head. A warm gentle feeling washed over him, but at the same time it gave him great unease.

“No and yes.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Both?”

Whatever Louis wanted from him was far from a simple drink. The look on his face did not give anything away, not that Harry could read a man’s face so easily. When he was younger he thought he could win a deck of cards by simply looking into the person’s eyes. He had been a kid and had learned since then that things were not that simple.

Harry internally frowned. It would seem he was remembering a lot about his child hood these past few days. He couldn’t understand why, but things were always a mystery in a world such as this. Money, gossip, and booze was the thing right now, no matter how much it got people in trouble.

Louis placed his elbows on the bar and licked his lips twice. “A man came to me the day before yesterday. He asked if I knew where he could pick up a few bottles.”

Then Harry finally felt like he knew where this conversation was going. It wasn’t a simple matter of helping a friend, it never would be with that certain look across Louis’ face. Never in his life had he wanted to run more than now. Something was of amiss, something that he surely would not want to be a part of.

But he was trapped behind a counter with a very tempting blue eyed man blocking his path of escape. In some twisted way he might have wanted this, if he was in a different life and if they were different people. Perhaps if he had a lust for danger and power he would not have felt this way, but he was a different person than who he was in his mind. He liked to think he was a good person and that he had a good reason to live.

Life wasn’t easy to come by in this time in age. Every corner that one turned down could be a turn towards death and suffering.

“I told him I did, all he would need to tell me was where to drop them off. I’d get them to him,” Louis said and leaned forward. “And I said I would even get them for a lower price. He seemed to like the sound of that very much.”

He paused and looked off to the far corner.

Harry already knew what was coming. “But?”

Louis turned his attention back towards him and smiled. Actually, it was more of a sly grin.

“I can’t deliver them myself and I haven’t found anyone I can trust all that much to get a job like this done. It isn’t so high end that I need one of my boys do it; I need someone a little more--”

“Disposable,” Harry completed.

Louis looked like he couldn’t contain his small laugh. “It’ll pay well, you can be sure of that. It’s a little risky, but nothing too bad that will get you locked up for a long time. You can do it. I can trust you, can’t I?”

The right thing to do would be to turn down the offer right then and there. Harry would have been saved a lot of trouble in the future.

But it was the temptation and the danger. They had always been Harry’s worst enemy and even here, when he thought he had control over his feelings, they were shown to be the stronger ones.

“Yes,” Harry croaked out against his judgment. He could hear the screaming in the back of his mind, yelling at him for what he had done.

Louis’ smile was the brightest thing he had every seen and if he could keep that smile on his face then it would be worth every punishment for his crimes. But Louis wasn’t asking for much, really. He was only asking for a friend’s hand in a little favor and if it had been anyone else he probably would have turned away, but he couldn’t to Louis. It was that same feeling coming back to him, taking over his body and making all his nerve endings tingle. This indescribable feeling was a danger to his life and if he were to let it take over his entire mind then he would be lost to the world.

Would he be happy with that? Leaving behind the real world for a world more promising and more happy? Harry thought that it would be a better trade off, a fair deal. What more would he need when he reached that glorious land? All he would need was that smile, that beautiful smile that was as bright as the sun, maybe even brighter.

Temptation. He had never felt anything stronger and oh, how this feeling was stronger than any sin in the bible or any temptation found in the human world. This feeling wasn’t of here and he could only see it as being a gift from the gods.

“Then it is settled.” Louis held out his hand.

Harry looked into Louis’ eyes. He could only see truth in them even when he knew there were lies within.

He took the outstretched hand and once again sealed his already fatal fate.

<><><>

“If you’re going to conspire with someone you shouldn’t do it where anyone can hear you.”

Liam slammed a paper onto the bar counter. He glared at Harry’s relaxed form.

“Well?”

Harry turned towards him. “What? He knew you weren’t going to rat him out. For god’s sake Liam, he owns The Emblem.”

“Anyone could have walked in.”

“Then we would have stopped talking. Look,” Harry pushed off of the counter, “I know you don’t think this is a good idea. I know it isn’t. But the fact is that this isn’t any of your business. I’m helping him out.”

Liam curled his lip. “No one helps Louis just for the fun of it. What did he offer you? Money? Girls? Fame?”

Harry didn’t dare reply. He kept his mouth shut and began to walk away. He was only glad when Liam didn’t follow him back to the storage room. It was actually the first time he was glad to be left alone.

<><><>

Harry had told himself that it would be a quick visit. He could get out for a day and visit his mother, but with work he couldn’t find the time to take off. The bills were always an issue and surely his mother could see reason.

But Anne had her own plans to see her son.

It was around two o’clock when he heard a knock upon his apartment door. His wasn’t as luxurious as Louis’, that was a fair given, and wasn’t as guarded as his either. But when he heard the knock upon his door he was sure it was Niall, but he was not expected much these days at his home. They would usually meet up at the bar when he wanted to talk or want to discuss the next set of plans to find a decent party.

What he hadn’t been expecting was his mother, dressed for a summer day with her hair pinned atop her head and her lips a shiny peach color.

<><><>

“Harry! Stop running around the house and sit down!” Anne had yelled out the front door with a loud shrill voice. Every kid in the neighborhood must have ducked at the voice for it was the sound of unfathomable misfortune.

Harry, though, had been immune to the terror for years, since he was two years and he had knocked over Anne’s mother’s vase. It hadn’t been expensive but had held the ashes of the dead woman. It had not been a nice time for Harry, even at the age of two, but somehow he had survived without too much damage.

Harry came to a full stop at his mother’s order and had slowly crept back to the living room. His sister was already sitting down, her nose stuck in a cover less book. This had been the year Gemma had been obsessed at learning everything and had read every book in the house more than three times. It was a brave feat, but her self-studying would go down the drain because girls weren’t given much attention at school. But whatever she missed at school she had strive to learn at home.

Anne had undoubtedly encouraged her daughter and had even asked Harry to teach his sister what he had learned.

“Harry Edward Styles! How many times do I have to tell you to not run in the house?”

Harry had wanted to answer with a smart remark, but thought better of it. He actually wanted to keep all of his fingers and the hair on his head.

The memory tasted sour, if that could be at all possible. Harry had been quite a hand full when he was younger. It seemed to only grow in the years to come, but he was sweet. Anne would have not traded him for the world and Gemma might have said otherwise, but had been lying.

They were almost he perfect family. The only thing that was missing was their father, who had passed away before Harry had even been born.

Harry had leaped up onto the couch beside Gemma and peered over her shoulder to get a look at what she was looking at. He pointed his finger at a random word and asked, “What’s that?”

Gemma knew he was only trying to make her mad, so she had ignored him. She knew arguing with him was only going to push him to do it more often. It had been a very wise choice then to stop his habits, for if she hadn’t, he would have not been tolerable in the least bit, no matter how cute he looked when he smiled and showed his dimples.

Gemma had been about to shoo her brother away when the front door had slammed open and another boy, just a tad year or two older, came running through the house. His hair stuck up in the air, as if he hadn’t even bothered in brushing it. The boy never did glanced Gemma’s way, instead he had locked eyes with Harry and that was that.

“I found the perfect tree! You’ve got to come and see!” The boy had to say no more. Harry bolted off the couch and had ran straight out of the house, his mother yelling at him.

They ran, without stopping, all the way to the forest, the boy leading Harry every step of the way. When they had reached their final destination, Harry could only look up at the tree with total amazement.

The tree had been everything Harry had imagined when he and the boy had set out to find the perfect tree to build a tree house. This one had branches thicker than he was, intertwining with each other and locked into place. At that moment he had the feeling was belonging and he knew this would be their place.

<><><>

Harry had never been so sure of anything in his life. His mother had convinced him to come home with her, skipping out on his shift at the bar. He had sent a note to Niall and had crossed his fingers that the lad would get it. If he lost his job because of this he had no problem putting the blame on his mother.

It wasn’t that he was angry. But he was a little unnerved at how fast Anne had come up with excuses. First she had said that he needed a break. Second she told him he had better things to do. It was far from anything Anne had ever said to him in his childhood. She had always been about being responsible, the normal adult and parent kind of things. She had been both a mother and father and Harry had always thought she put honor and pride before anything else. Quitting seemed like the complete opposite, even if it wasn’t what he wanted.

He paused at the thought.

What am I thinking? Of course this is what I want.

The underlying doubt kept him from completely believing himself.

Anne placed a chess board in front of them and began to take the pieces out. “I’m sure they will survive without you.”

“I hope so,” Harry said. She had no idea where he was currently working. He wasn’t about to tell anyone, not even his sister about the places he had been going since he started working at The Emblem. At first it was to keep them from getting into trouble, now he only did it so that he wouldn’t have to answer their questions.

It had all started since he moved to Chicago. Being the first to move anywhere outside of town, he had become most popular in their little town. Even the little boys and girls somehow knew who he was and liked to stop and ask him what it was like living in such a big city. He never told them truth, never told them how cold it was sleeping alone or how terrified he was when he walked the streets at night. It was different from here all right, but not in the best ways.

He set up his side of the board, picking the black pieces. “White again?”

Anne hummed. “Why change things now?”

The tender and familiar moment almost sent him back to remember, but he pushed the memory back. He liked remembering happy moments, but sometimes when he thought too far back, he would hit a brick wall and then the bad ones would come flowing through.

The smile slipped from his face. He watched as Anne set up her side of the board, being careful to keep them all aligned. It was not his favorite game—he was more fond of checkers—and neither was it Gemma’s.

“What are you thinking about?”

Anne’s voice called out to him. She sounded so far away when she was right in front of him. She had moved her pawn and now it was his turn, but he could barely lift his arms. He could feel pressure starting to build, pouring down on him from above and pressing against him from all around him.

The blue eyes. They were staring into him, burning deep holes into his mind and pushing him back. The pressure kept building until he felt his eyes would burst from his head. A scream was caught in his throat and he felt it.

He felt absolute terror.

Then it evaporated.

Anne looked at him closely but never said a word. She was looking at him like she wanted to say something but could not make out the precise words she wanted to speak.

Harry picked up a random piece and moved it across the board. He couldn’t stomach the sight of the board, as if it were covered in blood and had been the one to slay the person, whoever they might be.

<><><>

The rain made music. Soft breeze filtered through the tall trees and hushed at the rain to be quieter. Harry stared up at the tree, making out the outlines of the falling and rotting boards. He gave out a soft sigh and wondered where the little boy had gone.

 


	6. Chapter Six

Harry did not have time to think about his pending thoughts. He’d gone home the night before and had tried to sleep but could barely hear his own thoughts over the yelling above him. His neighbors had a child less than a year old and loved to scream at the early hours. He’d sat in his room, staring up at his ceiling, sometimes looking out his window, and waited for the crying to stop. Once in a while the father would storm around and yell about the child, telling the mother to shut them up.

The stars would have been lovely from his childhood bedroom, but here they were only white dots against a dark background. He had tried to strain his eyes, squinting as much as he could, too the stars more clearly, but it never worked liked he wanted it to.

With as little as four hours of sleep, he got up and dressed himself. He had thought about walking over to Niall’s, but when he showed up he found that he wasn’t there. It disappointed him a bit, though he simply headed towards Zayn’s apartment on the other side of the city.

They had met at an audition for auditions. It wasn’t much when they began their small relationship; Zayn wasn’t much of a talker even if he was a great actor. He was very reserved, unlike anyone Harry had met in Chicago and even his hometown. It was a little refreshing but stuck out like a sore thumb.

When Harry arrived he immediately tried opening the door. He had never thought anything about it before. Zayn and Harry were so close now that it had never been a problem before. But he should have sensed something was wrong. The air around the apartment was a little thicker than it usually was, even if it was a little weird Harry was thinking about that right now.

How would he have noticed anything out of place anyway? What could he had been looking for in his other visits?

Harry’s mouth went dry at the sight, his heart a little weaker now.

Zayn met Harry’s eyes and the world came tumbling down. Liam’s arm held Zayn close to him, his lips pressed against his cheek in a lingering kiss.

The door closed behind Harry. He winced when he heard the final click.

“H-Harry.” Zayn backed away from Liam and wiped a hand across his cheek. He looked stricken with fear, eyes wide and his chest heaving.

Harry shook his head. “I-I’m not-I don’t--”

He couldn’t even finish his sentence. The underlying tension, the fear that was in all of their heads. What were they going to do about this?

What could any of them do?

Harry turned his back on the scene and ran from the apartment. He could hear Zayn’s voice yelling for him to stop, but he didn’t dare slow down. His eyes burned and he couldn’t get the image out of his head. They were so close and they looked happy. How could they? How could they go against everything and do that?

But how could he judge them?

You aren’t so different.

He stopped at the end of the stairs. The only thing separating him from the streets outside was one door. All he would have to do would go through it and he would be free from it all. He wouldn’t have to think about it or tell anyone. Zayn couldn’t possibly want to bring it up again. If he did then it might be best to stay away for a while. He could go back and work from the next week, it didn’t really matter.

He just had to get away.

The will was there, all he needed was the courage to take the step. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get his legs to move. It was not hard, not a hard thing to do. Walk. Walk away from it all.

But it was all broken away when he heard the pounding footsteps on the staircase. He knew who it was, there was no need for him to turn around. Of all the things he could do, this was what he had chosen, even if he hadn’t really on his own. His body was doing nothing what his mind was telling it to do, not listening to the cries of urgency.

“Please,” he heard Zayn say. He was standing right behind Harry, close. Any closer his whisper would sound like a yell. Maybe he was yelling on the inside. If anyone else had seen what they were doing, if he hadn’t of caught them, what would they have done?

Who would anyone had done? And would they tell others?

“I don’t know if you can understand this. I don’t even understand this.” Harry could imagine Zayn looking up at the ceiling, thinking of the next words to say. His eyes could be glistening with tears or they could simply dried up and red.

“Ever since--it has always been like this. I’ve always been like this. No matter what you do or say to me now--if you want to cast me aside and never speak to me again or if you go and tell Tomlinson or even get everyone to beat me--I won’t change.”

The room went still. Harry took a deep breath.

“It does not matter. Not to me.”

He did not look back when he exited the building. He was sure he would not be able to handle to see the man he had left behind.

<><><>

“The Magician. It seems such a bland name for something that is suppose to be amazing. Why are you showing this to me?”

Harry pulled the collar of his coat up against the wind. The brick building in front of him wasn’t doing much to block the wind nor was it helping shield the bright sun out of his eyes. He had no idea how the sun could be out and yet it be so freezing. He was only glad that he had thought to bring his one coat with him, deciding last minute that it would be wise to be prepared for any drastic change. It was a good thing that he had.

Louis plucked the paper out of Harry’s hand and stuff it into the pocket of his coat. “It’s where we’re heading tonight. Thought it would be a great distraction.”

He grinned up at the younger man. “And the magician is a friend of mine.”

Harry gave a suspicious look. “When you say friend, you mean illegal dealing buddy.”

Louis shrugged and began to walk away. “More of a fellow business partner. But yes. We do deal with each other from time to time. He has something that he wishes for me to take a look at. He believes I’ll be very interested in it.”

They were walking out from behind a small building and entering a small populated area. The rare person to pass them by barely spared them a glance.

“You don’t have a clue as to what it is?”

“Not one clue. However, his urgency for me to take a look has pushed him to give us free tickets. If it is no hassle to you, I’d like for you to attend with me. I believe escapist and magicians are very popular among people today.”

Harry hummed in agreement. He had heard a lot about the demand for such exotic wonders for the past few years. It was astounding how interested the world had become so enthralled in such things, but he would be a liar to say that he was not just a bit curious about the things these wonders held.

“Is that a yes then?”

Harry ran a hand through his hair. “Would not hurt. A distraction might be needed.”

Louis didn’t look like he could keep the grin off of his face. Harry liked that he could keep him happy, even so for such a short time. It seemed that no matter where they went, the city was always full of unhappiness, but things like these always did happen. The way of the world was not what he loved about this city. Chicago had faults and he would have been a very giant fool to think otherwise. When he had come here, he had fought on these streets to keep alive, through the harsh winters and the unlucky timing of job offers, he’d made it this far.

And yet it felt like he hadn’t made it anywhere in the world. If Anne had any idea what kind of doubts were floating around in his head she would have smacked him. She would have been disappointed and disgusted at the lack of mere talent he held compared to his wondrous father.

Discourage befell upon him. Would she cast him aside if he let this dream pass him by? No matter at how he looked at it, he felt like he would never be as good as his father; no matter what he did, he could never be like him, not when he tried his hardest.

Louis hooked his arm into Harry’s and bumped into him with bubbling excitement. His cheeks were flushing red and his eyes crinkled as he laughed. “We must be along then! The best seats will surely be reserved for us, but I’d hate to be jostled by large crowds on the way.”

They arrived quite early, having almost half an hour to spare before the show would begin. Louis took this time to study the men and women seating themselves around them. They had been seated up high in the balcony and gifted with one of the best views. Harry, having seen many shows, was actually amazed by the great structure of the auditorium. The seats were more comfortable than most he had been graced to seated in and the stage was not far away from their eyes.

In all, the great hall was beautiful and had the audience amazed before the show had even started.

“You look aghast. Cat have your tongue?”

Harry scowled at Louis but said nothing. Louis took it as a sign of defeat.

“That is beside the point,” he said, brushing the topic away. “We need to discuss the basis of your rendezvous.”

Harry raised an eyebrow.

“Is that what we are calling it now?”

Louis licked his lips and leaned across the arm of their chairs. “I’ll have you know that I take great care in my business. I can call it however I want.”

Harry’s gaze dropped from Louis’ eyes to his lips. He watched as the pink tongue poked out and swiped across his lips once again.

“What do you have planned?”

Louis then explained that Harry would at the corner of fourth and fifth. The reason he had chosen the street was because of the low traffic of citizens and police. It also gave him a wide range of escapes if he so happened to need them, but Louis was sure that it would not be necessary to dread death if it came upon him.

“Death is everywhere my friend. We all must learn to give up when the time comes, but do not worry. Your time is decades away.”

Louis was smiling, but Harry could not believe his words more than a child.

Louis must have seen the look on his face for he reached out and cupped his chin. His lips parted and a sigh escaped them. Harry watched with fascination that he could not hide. How he wished to swoop down and take those lips with his own, but he could not. Shame flared on his cheeks. Louis must know. It was not hidden well enough and he was sure others around him would take notice as well. This was not right, not among men to find such beauty in each other. That was reserved for women only and yet he could not tell his heart what to think nor his mind.

“You must come back from me, you understand?”

Harry was stunned by the words. He swallowed thickly and nodded.

“Good. Now shush. It’s about to begin.”

 


	7. Chapter Seven

  
“I should fuckin’ wring your neck for makin’ me worry this whole time.”

Zayn slammed the door shut behind him and resumed smoking the almost dead cigarette. He blew out smoke through his nose and stared back at Harry’s blank expression. They stared at one another for minutes, studying one another that they could have painted a portrait of each other.

Zayn could and had more times in his lifetime than anyone else Harry knew.

Harry did not wait for Zayn to invite him to sit. He’d been in this apartment so often, it felt like his own. Taking a seat on the old and worn couch, he titled his head back, sighing up at the ceiling.

“I’m not here to fight.”

He heard a crash.

“Then get the fuck out.”

Harry jolted and sat up right.

“What?”

Zayn sneered at him. “I said get out. I don’t want to talk; I want to fight. Nothings going to be settled until we get it out of our systems and if it isn’t now then leave.”

The snort came out before Harry could stop it. He noticed the way Zayn’s nostrils flared at the sound.

“That won’t solve anything. I’ll only walk out with a bloody nose.”

“Seems it will solve my problems.”

Harry had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. “Listen to yourself, Zayn. You’ve turned mad if you believe the only way to solve this is by idiotic and impulsive violence.”

“If only you could fight like your tongue.”

Harry’s glare could have cut through the man if he wanted.

“Fine. I’ll leave you to your petty ways.”

It did no good to brighten his spirits when stepped out of the apartment at his own choice. The end of the fight was no where in sight and instead of feeling some victory, he only felt loss. Zayn had been his friend since he had turned up in Chicago. Being without him because of something petty as this, it felt like he was being stabbed through the heart. Poetic or not, saying this would not change anything nor would it help him find answer to the problem.

There was another thing that kept his mind occupied.

The next day would bring him a new adventure, one that he had not sought out nor would he had never pictured himself pursuing.

<><><>

Find the corner between fourth and fifth had been the easy part. The hard part had been meeting Louis under very strange circumstances.

Now Harry had been raised in a very small town and in that town there were bars and saloons but none that would ever draw great attention in town. His mother seemed to have no anger towards them though she did express greatly that she would be very disappointed to see him enter one let alone bed a woman there.

“Those girls have enough trouble waiting tables. Imagine waiting on men as well.”

Anne never expressed disgust towards the girls, merely towards the men that could not find satisfaction in a good wife.

And so it was not odd for Harry to feel cut off from the world when it came to...mature tendencies.

He’d followed Louis’ instructions to meet him at his party apartment, the one Harry had been to many times before. Seeing it when it was just an apartment and not when it was housing almost a hundred guests, was a large change and transformed the place from being boggling, to simply appealing.

“Don’t wait for me to answer.”

They were Louis’ words and he listened to them. They had many things to do this morning and he didn’t want to end up being the leading cause for their late departure. He did not bother knocking and entered with his head turned to glance at the beautifully crafted doorknob.

He was not sure why he had taken interest in something he had seen many times before. Maybe it was the moment or the strange feeling that hung in the air. There was, of course, the soft smell hanging in the air.

It ghost along his skin, seeping into his pores. He inhaled deeply and tried to put his finger on what it reminded him of. Louis’ dark eyes entered his eyes and it was like he was wrapped around him. There was nothing but him; nothing else in the room could over power the sense of his presence. Harry walked further into the room and paused when he noticed the bare feet hanging over the edge of the coach. Soft humming came from the area, becoming louder as he continued into the room. There was no particular tune that Harry could make out. It only seemed to be an endless flowing of random notes. Something Harry could see himself doing when he was younger or when he was really deeply alone.

“Harry. I know it is you. Don’t be shy now.”

A hand stretched up, waving Harry to the figure lounging in the couch. When he peered over he was not surprised to find Louis staring up at him, a lazy grin working over his features. He looked like a sated cat, waiting for its next meal. And to prove the point even more, Harry swore he heard the faintest sound of a purr.

Louis bit his lip and waggled his fingers. “Come closer.”

With a frown, Harry indulged the man though he rather not. It seemed all to easy now to bend to Louis’ every command now. He didn’t want it to be this way; he didn’t want to feel as if he was owned by the man let alone just be his slave. Things were not turning out as he had dreamed when he came to Chicago. Being told what to do was never in his set of plans when he sketched them out on his attic floorboards.

Harry hadn’t sensed the cool touch of Louis’ fingers on his neck until they were wrapping around a stray curl. He gasped when the hair was tugged and he fell over the back of the couch, inches away from Louis’ face. Hot breath fanned over his face and he briefly wondered if Louis chewed mint leaves to keep his breath so fresh when he was tugged even closer. A shudder ran down his spine. He could feel him. He could feel his breath, his lips, everything.

He could also feel the pressure building down below as well.

His cheeks flushed and he hoped Louis could not tell. This--

This was something he would never want anyone to know about. No one.

And yet, when Louis finally pressed his lips to Harry’s, Harry wanted to scream to the world what he had.

For this moment, he had Louis Tomlinson.

He had never felt anything greater.

The warm lips left his. When had he closed his eyes? He could not remember, but it did not matter. What really mattered was the look across Louis’ face as he stared up at Harry, basking in the sunlight that poured through the open windows. He could smell the scent stronger here. Was it him? A fragrance? Though it bugged him, he could not concentrate long enough to figure it out. His senses were overrun by the need to touch and feel, simply be consumed by everything. The warmth of the hands holding him still sent a calm hush over him and he felt no need to move. If Louis wanted to keep him here for the rest of the day, though his back was starting to ache, he would comply.

When he opened his mouth he could barely speak. “H-Have you...”

Louis gazed at him, waiting for him to finished. Harry tried to, he really did. He opened his mouth, but nothing would come out. Not even a faint squeak.

Embarrassment washed over him. How could he not ask something so simple. He must have looked like a damn fool, tripping over his words like he’s never kissed anyone before.

Well, he’d never kissed a man before. He was quite sure that was not on the list of normal things to do when one grows up. He pushed away the haunting thoughts about what his mother and father would say. Gemma...would she be ashamed? Harry was not too sure if he was not disgusted by his own wants and--

Harry closed his eyes again. Breathe.

Fingers brushed across his cheek and the thumb pressed against the corner of his mouth. Without a thought, Harry parted his lips and let the thumb pressed into his mouth, exploring however it pleased. He whimpered once when it pressed deeper, settling on his tongue. Beside that, he kept quiet and still.

“Have I ever kissed a man?” Harry’s eyes opened a fraction, trying to not let his senses run too far away. He barely heard Louis’ questions over the pounding of his own heart. He gave a small nod, careful about not moving too much to disturb the hand almost halfway down his throat.

Louis eased up off his back and pressed his rough cheek against Harry’s. “Never.”

The room felt like it had dropped twenty degrees. Louis’ hot skin pressed against his and he longed to feel him everywhere, to just lay beside him.

The thumb slipped out his mouth and the once burning hot flesh was now cold as Louis sat up. Moment long gone, the air was still the same but lighter. Louis brushed back his hair and gave Harry a small smile.

“Right. I think you have a job to do.”

In an instant, Harry’s mind snapped from wanting to cuddle to wanting to run. Now his heart was speeding from something entirely different and it was not good. For a minute he thought Louis would throw him out of the room and simply be done with him. Of course after he gave him directions and the items he would be delivering. However, when Louis grabbed the bag beside him and handed it to Harry, he lingered far too long and made sure their hands touched.

“I’ll waiting for you to return. Don’t be a stranger.” The smile almost took everything out of Harry. The teeth that Louis shown him were far more blinding than the sun and right then Harry had almost believe that Louis was the sun. He was a prince in disguise, more beautiful than the entire world and universe.

Harry crossed the space between them and took Louis’ face into the palm of his hand. Louis looked startled when Harry leaned in, but then the look was gone. “I had been sure you would have ran away.”

“I should have,” Harry said as his lips got closer. They pressed against Louis’ willing ones and it felt like the world had meaning again. It was the same feeling rolling around inside Harry when he first started out acting. He had been such a lost boy before then, before he found what he was yearning for. And now that he had a taste of this happiness, he was sure that he had still been missing something. It was just that he had no idea what it had been.

Now he knew. He had been missing this warmth of another, the love of another person. And if that person was Louis, then everything was right in the world.

<><><>

Now Harry left Louis in a haze, one that he left him wandering the streets with a smile on his face. Was this what love felt like? Was he in love? It never struck him how odd it was that he would fall for someone like Louis, but he could not change his mind at all now that he had it set in his mind. It was almost as if he had been entrances or hit with a love spell. So young but had found love before he found himself.

He laughed at the thought. Would his mother be proud of him or would she shun him? The question came and went and it did not put a damper on Harry’s happy high. But he was now at his destination, the bag heavy in his hand but light compared to other things. Louis’ smile flashed in his mind and his own smile grew wider. Something tugged on his heart and his stomach twisted. What was this feeling? It was not unpleasant but it did make him feel a little uncomfortable.

He shifted from one foot to the other. Now that he thought about it, he was feeling this need--this type of urge. It made him frown and when he looked down--

Oh. That’s what he felt when he had been with Louis.

Though it took him by surprise, it was not anything new to him. Growing with only two girls had left him to figure things out on his own and with the help of some of his school friends, he had learned a few tricks to get rid of the problem.

But he couldn’t do anything of sort now. It was broad daylight and a man was about to meet with him to do the exchange. He would have to deal with for the time being until he was alone and able without interruption.

Harry bit his lip.

He didn’t want to be seen like this. A fleeting thought ran across his mind. No. He would not succumb to such a thing and to do it out in broad daylight? Had he gone mad? Just thinking about it made him seem like a young boy who couldn’t control his urges.

Just as Harry was about to list reasons to himself why he shouldn’t relieve himself, a man turned the corner and caught his eye. The man was carrying nothing and wore a gray suit and matching hat. Louis had said the man had already paid him so all that Harry would need to do was hand the delivery over. However, it would be a little tricky to make sure he had the right man. Though it would not hurt Louis if the package was given to the wrong man, it would get out on the streets and possibly hurt the business quite a bit. And strike a loyal customer out.

Harry had not been scared. He had simply understood the circumstances that he was under and really could not be bothered by the fear of death and what not. Things did happen and things will happen. There was no way to get around fate, not when Harry was just a man. But he was not thinking like that that day, or right then when the man turned the corner. They were making an exchange, close to harmless if Harry was telling the truth. Nothing about it was sinister, not even when he had had the brief thought about releasing himself all over the ground.

That had been a shameful thought, but no more shameful than the act he was going to commit. It was a petty crime though glorified because of the law.

He swore that he was no trouble maker. It was not like he had sought Louis out for the purpose of breaking the law. This time, one of the rarest occasion and possibly the only time he had done something like this, would not break him. If he was not caught--which would seem the case--then nothing would come of this except for another reason to visit Louis.

The man came up to the curb and stuck out his hand. Harry looked at it and wondered if he should take it into his own or hand the bag over.

He didn’t need to ask though as the man wiggled his fingers and said, “I believe Mr. Tomlinson sent those for me.”

There was no questioning it now. Harry with a blank stare, handed the bag over and was quite relieved when he did not have to hold onto it any longer. He’d been holding the weight for what seemed like hours, though it was probably over a few minutes. An awkward air formed around them and Harry coughed.

He was going to say goodbye but thought better of it. The man clearly did not want anything to do with him so why should he wait any longer or even speak to him? He turned and began to walk away thinking how he should stop by Niall’s and see if he was up for hanging around. They had not seen much of each other in days and with Zayn going through whatever it was with Liam, he had been stuck by himself. But really what he wanted to do was go back to Louis’ and laze about in the man’s apartment.

“Wait a minute.”

Confused, Harry turned around. He was going to ask what the man wanted when he heard a gun shot. It rang in his ears and he thought his head was going to burst. The man with the bag sagged down to the ground face first. Blood gathered into a dark red puddle underneath the man, spreading in a wide circle, getting closer to Harry’s feet.

Harry could not yell nor could he break his eyes from the horrid scene. The image of the lifeless body was forever rooted in his mind and when he finally broke out of his stupor, he found it was too late to run.

Three other men stood in front of him, each holding a gun, pointed right at him.

The one in the middle, a man not much older than Harry with brown hair and a scar across his cheek, looked at Harry with a foul grin. “It’s Tomlinson’s bitch, boys! Can’t believe we caught this slugger dealin’ in our place. Boss’ll be real happy about this.”

 


	8. Chapter Eight

Harry had no qualms with the business men of Chicago nor did he ever want to cross their paths. He’d learn far too many things about the “respectable” working men of society and found that they were never what they seemed. This was true about many things in Harry’s life. When he was younger he learned that fire was hot and that ice was cold; he had also learned that bad people were punished and the innocent were rewarded. But what no one had ever told him was that there was something called the gray-zone.

In this gray-zone fell people that were neither damned or saints. They were simply living humans and as humans usually are, they are not perfect. They run into mischief and liked to live their life before it was snatched away to never return.

Black and white were not the only colors under the sun. It was only a shame that Harry would have to learn that now when he was being held at gun point.

The man with the scar stepped forward, walking over the dead man as if he meant nothing to him. Fear gathered at the pit of Harry’s stomach and he thought that he may be sick.

“Well, well. I can’t believe our luck, but of course we were following yeah. No coincidence here I’m afraid,” the man said, stepping closer until he was only a few feet away. Harry stood stalk still, not daring to move an inch in case the man was loose with his fingering. He tried to tell himself that he was no afraid of what could happen to him, but it was all a lie.

He was afraid and he could not admit it to himself. That was no stranger thing. He was sure that every man and every woman who had to face death in the face could never cover up their true reactions. Whether one was scared of dying or not was not up to anyone nor did anyone have any control over their own emotions. If they were then they must not be human. That’s what Harry concluded in the small span of a few minutes while being held at gun point by a man that he did not know nor did he want to know. If he had been forced to become friends with this man then he was sure that it would not have worked out.

“What the fuck are you smilin’ ‘bout, huh? Tomlinson’s got himself a loony if I recon.” The man nodded to Harry. “Pack him up boys.”

The two other men quickly moved to Harry’s side and each grabbed a hold of one of his arms. They did not take the time to be gentle or be nice. It was not in their nature and scar face probably would not have liked that anyway. Harry thought about the situation and tried to think of a way to get out. There was no way that he could over come all three of them, especially when one had a gun. He had now idea if they had come here solely for the booze or if they had a different motive behind their actions. What could they possibly want from him? But it came kind of obvious when the man started spouting off about Louis. If there was another Tomlinson around here then he was mistaken, but it seemed very unlikely.

This must mean that they were looking for a connection to Louis. What for, he did not know. And it was always like that. He would be dragged into something or start to figure out more about Louis and then wham! He was being kidnapped. However, this was the only time that he had been threatened and kidnapped. Anne would most definitely not like this if she ever heard about it. He would hate to see her face and face her wrath if he ever did get to see her again.

A black vehicle had been parked in one of the back alleys. It was far from any citizen eyes and was concealed by the dark shadows. If it had been a different situation Harry might have complimented the men’s cleverness, but alas, he was being forced into the back seat against his will.

“Nyx, what should we do with him?”

Nyx, the man with the scar, climbed into the drivers seat and turned around to face the others in the back. “What do you think? Tie him up. Can’t have him jumpin’ around and screamin’.”

The other two said nothing else as they silently tied Harry’s hands and feet together with rope from the floorboard. Harry struggled against their rough hands but stopped when one held a knife to his throat. They made their point when they tightened the rope as much as they could, almost burning into Harry’s skin. It would no doubt leave red marks on him and might even cut off the blood flow. He did not voice these concerns, afraid the men would answer with the tip of the blade.

“Bet you’re wonderin’ what we got you for. This is my first time doin’ a job like this. One that doesn’t involve killin’ you first, mind you. Bet boss’ll have a real good time choppin’ you up since you’re Tomlinson’s boy.” Nyx licked his lips. “Wish I had the pleasure.”

Harry couldn’t hid his look of disgust. He felt his skin crawl at the thought of ever falling into the hands of Nyx. But in some way he had. If it was not for his boss, Harry was sure the man would have no problem hacking away at Harry when he was down like this.

He gave his confinements a pull, testing their strength. Well, they knew had to tie their knots.

They were turning a corner when a loud screech filled the air and the car came to a slow stop. Nyx peered out of the window and stared.

“What the...”

The next sound caused Harry to jump. The sound of a gun shot echoed and pulsed in Harry’s ear. He felt his blood run cold and he could not move, not like he could anyway.

Blood seeped into the car seat. Nyx’s head rolled to one side, his eyes staring up into Harry’s. Air escaped his mouth in a harsh wheeze, but no words could be formed. The life disappeared from his eyes and slowly, the wheezing stopped.

The blood was drawing closer and as Harry stared at the puddle, he could not bring himself to think or to move. He was numb from head to toe. The air sucked him in and he could not hear anything besides the whistling wind. Nyx’s hair rustled in the wind and for a split second, it was like Harry knew him. He didn’t though. Harry had no idea how that had even made its way into his head, but it was there and it was there to stay. The idea rooted itself into the deepest part of his brain and latched onto the nerves. His memory grew fuzzy and before he knew it, he was on his knees beside Nyx’s limp body.

This man was taking him somewhere. He did not know where; Harry never knew what was happening anymore. Ever since Louis came into his life, his world was either full of joy or pain. Some would argue that was life no matter who you meet, but to Harry it was completely different. This was not right, none of it was.

The moment was shattered when a hand yanked him off the ground.

“Get up you git! Got to fucking move before the other ones make it back to their mommy.”

Harry looked down, dumbstruck. “Louis? What are you doing here?”

Louis huffed and jostled the gun in his hand. He turned away, walking towards the back alley. “I got a feeling something was off. It was a good thing I came to check up on you or you would have been chopped into pieces and placed at the front door of my apartment.”

Trying to keep up, Harry huffed at Louis’ side. “That does not seem very easy. Don’t you have guards outside of your apartment on the ground floor? How could they possibly make it past them?”

They turned the corner and waiting for them was another black car, except this was had a driver in uniform and much nicer seats. Harry would expect nothing less than that from Louis.

Louis stuffed the gun in the back of his pants and under his jacket. “This man we’re talking about, no guards could beat him not even his weakest of men.”

Harry blinked at the blatant statement.

“What about your men?”

Louis opened the car door. He took one look at Harry before climbing into the back seat and gestured for Harry to do the same. The silence stretched and it could be assumed that Harry was not going to get an answer. He was fine with that. Secrets were what kept him sane most days and he had expected it from someone like Louis. Louis’ whole life was built around secrets. If anyone of them got out then his whole empire would collapse, bring him down with it. The tragic part about it was that what made Louis so strong was also the thing that made him the weakest.

The car lurched forward. Harry passed the time by gazing out of the window and watching as people went about their day. Every few minutes he would sneak a glance Louis’ way, but always found him staring out his own window. What was he thinking? Those men back there, they had meant to harm Harry and then what? They said they were bringing him back to their boss. By what Louis said, the man must have been as powerful as he was.

Harry’s eyebrows raised. Another mobster? Is that what he was? Or did he only meddle in street crime and not bootlegging liquor around the city? The questions would have to go unanswered until Harry could get Louis to open which would be never. Their relationship was complicated, obscured past the realm of reality. Whatever that was brewing between the two of them would soon get them burned if they were not careful. He had no idea about Louis, but he did not want to clean up the mess they would leave behind if things got out of hand.

The scenery changed and soon they were driving outside of the city limits. Frowning, Harry sat up straighter. “Where are we going?”

He turned to Louis who gave him a blank stare. “My home. The apartment is only to host my gatherings.”

A smile tugged at Harry’s lips. “That’s what you call them then.”

Louis cocked his head. “You don’t like my choice of words?”

Harry’s gaze drifted to Louis’ lips and then back. His tongue darted out to swipe at his chapped lips. The way Louis watched him did not go unnoticed.

“You sound like an old man.”

Louis huffed.

“Says the man wearing clothes from our great-fathers’ days.”

Harry was about to swat him on the arm when the car stopped.

“The view is better when you get out of the car.”

Harry ignored the smart remark and continued to stare at the large estate in front of him. He must have been a fool to ever think that Louis only owned that apartment. A man with as much money as he did could own the whole building if he wanted to. But why should he when he had a mansion right here at his disposal?

Harry couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice. “You live here? Alone?”

Louis had opened the door and was standing outside of the car. He looked from Harry to the house, a smile upon his face.

“There are...others,” Louis said. “Entertainers, if that. But they’re old friends who I should probably not associate myself with.”

He walked around the car and opened Harry’s door. The driver stood to the side with his hands behind his back. Harry climbed out of the door and followed Louis to the entrance.

“They also bring girls with them from time to time. The girls offer themselves to me but of course...”

Louis winked at Harry. “I never indulge myself.”

Harry’s cheeks burned. The flush started at his chest and made its way to the tip of his ears. His heart was about to burst out of his chest. And even though he felt the great need to bend over and spill his guts onto the beautiful stone pathway, he managed to keep it down. Resisting it made his muscles and bones ache; he told himself it was in good time that he would be able to stop the pain.

His eyes made a fleeting movement to catch Louis’ form in the golden sunlight. His breath hitched. He’d dreamed of things like this. Back in his hometown, when things were innocent and when he thought that life could always be that simple. What had happened from then and now? What had changed from all those years ago?

Somewhere inside of him, he knew this answer. It was buried deep and had been done so for a reason.

The house was bright white against the blue sky, a contrast that had Harry squinting for more reasons than one. Plants filled up empty space in the yard and against the sides of the house; the windows were large and trimmed with gold; the entrance was a set of double doors that looked ten feet tall. The man in the second story window was looking down at them. Harry had not noticed him until they were walking up the steps. Even when Harry met his eyes, the man did not turn away. His hands were in his pockets and for a moment, Harry thought he was imagining things.

“That would be Lewis.”

Harry made a face. Louis saw it and laughed.

“It is a little strange. When we first met I absolutely hated him, but over a cup of tea we talked .I want to say we did not become friends because of our similar names, but I would be lying.”

“He stays here often?” They were through the front door now. The smell of fresh baked bread drafted to Harry’s nose as well as the strong scent of flowers. He did not know much about flowers but baking had been his mother’s hobby. It had been the one thing she could find complete joy in, immersing herself with recipes and teaching Gemma and Harry along the way. They had grown up around the smell of food through out of the house.

“Some would describe it that way,” Louis said, smiling. “Others might call it breaking and entering, but I don’t mind. Anything he might steal could be easily replaced.”

The hallway arched over their heads. Harry had to clamp his jaw shut so that he would not gasp. It was an honest reactions, one that Louis might have been proud of withdrawing, but Harry did not know that. He could never make assumptions like that about another person, though how tempting it was. What lay beneath such a creature?

Louis was having too much showing off his grand kingdom. He had taken Harry’s hand and pulled him to each different room, marveling at Harry’s reactions. If Harry had not known better, he would have thought the man brought him here just to show off his possessions. But the true reason drifted to the service when they made it to the large dining hall. There was a smaller version just a few doors down which Louis explained was usually for breakfast and lunch.

So they arrived, loudly talking to each other. At some point they had become so close that they kept bumping into each other, elbow hitting elbow and should hitting shoulder. Giddy was how Harry felt at that moment. It felt like something more was presenting itself and he was soon forgetting what had happened earlier in the day.

But it all came crashing back when he noticed the man sitting at the dinning table. He was Lewis, the man Harry had seen in the window.

He was closer now and could pick out the man’s dominant features. It did not shock Harry to notice how very different he was from Louis. Only their names were alike and even then they were pronounced quite differently.

Lewis’ hair was a light blond, slicked back and falling slightly off to one shoulder. It was medium length, not anything to raise an eyebrow to. The man’s choice of dress as well was not anything to think twice about. It was evident that he had the same money as Louis. His shirt was expensive, his shoes probably more than Anne’s house. Harry’s gut twisted. He could feel something come over him, stealing his breath away, but then it was gone.

Louis stepped up to the man and pulled him into a long lasting hug. Harry pinched at his wrist, keeping his eyes away from their forms and more at the trees blowing in the wind. A sigh escaped him and for a second he thought that he might com bust. That would be the easy part. The world would keep turning though.

The long lasting moment passed. Harry tried to keep the darkening look off his face, but it had slipped through his fingers. Louis did not notice and hopefully Lewis did not either. They spoke to each other in rapid fire, more daring than Harry could ever wish to speak with Louis. It could not have been more than what it looked like. He was simply making it out to being something else. He was delusional and making things up in his head.

The word for it popped up in his head; he did not dare to speak it, not inside his head and definitely not out loud.

“Have a seat Harry. After this morning I’m sure you are quite tired.” Lewis sent a smile Harry’s way, soft but was laced with something far more sinister. Harry had seen that same smile on Louis’ face before, so similar, yet so different. It was strange to think that anything between these two men could even be alike, but here was the living truth that things were never as they seemed.

Louis’ personality was not what Harry could ever accept as being all that he was. It was only the scratch of the surface, only the first coat to a hidden creature waiting to be unleashed. How Harry had been so foolish to think that he could be the one to set him free when he himself was trapped in a cage.

The blue eyes were staring at him, waiting for his move.

Hazza. Hazza, where are you?

“Harry? Are you all right?”

The voice vanished as quickly as it had come. Screeching filled Harry’s ears, but was nothing more than pure silence. He blinked before any tears could be spilled. Touching his fingertips to his wrist, he tested his heart beat.

Was he still alive? What had he heard?

The voice was nothing like he had heard before and he wondered if it had been his imagination. It sounded familiar, almost like it had come from a memory. But where, he did not know. His thoughts wondered back to when he was younger, back when things were simple. Had he heard it from then? It seemed likely and with a world as twisted as this one, anything could be possible.

<><><>

They sat across from one another, Harry beside Louis and Lewis in front of them. The dining room seats were soft and were a light tan color. The material was of high quality and was not hard to tell even when far away. It was obvious that who had designed the room had taken into account a very strict color scheme. They had stuck to it too. Nothing seemed to be out of place in the slightest. There was nothing wrong with order. In fact, Harry had always been a man with a sort of cleaning habit. This, however, was taking things to another level that he had never been.

“This morning you ran into some fellows who were not so nice.” Lewis’ gaze burned holes into Harry. “You may or not know that these men operate under another. His name Hedi. No last name.”

The air was sucked out of the room. Harry’s eyes drifted to Louis, but he did not say a word. His elbow sat on the table, his chin in his hand. He was thinking, zoning off to another place. The burning in Harry’s eyes increased; he closed them. Black dots appeared in his vision.

“We were expecting this to happen. What happens now, will judge who will come out on top,” Lewis said, placing his hands flat on the table. “You are important to both of us. Even though I have just met you, you hold a large portion of my money on your shoulders.”

Harry scoffed. “I was bait?”

A beat of silence passed. Louis sighed and leaned back in his seat. “Don’t think about it that way.”

Harry’s eyes snapped open.

“Then how am I suppose to think? Am I suppose to believe that you sent me out there with no doubt that I would survive?”

The look on Louis’ face was not something he could look at for long. He turned his face away, his hand over his mouth. This was not like he had imagined this day would. He was a fool to ever think that Mr. Tomlinson could be more than his true image. Had he really fallen under the spell that everyone else had fallen under?

His mind went back to the blond doll at the party. She had been so trusting, even to Harry, a complete stranger. Louis was a completely different case. He was always full of energy and sunshine. His whole being was of another world. The world could not contain him; he was above the law, above anyone who thought themselves better than him.

“That is not important now.”

Harry glared Lewis’ way.

The man stared, waiting for Harry to get a hold of himself. “We have a favor to ask of you.”

The last time he heard anything about him doing favors he was almost killed. His eyes shot to Louis and they locked eyes for a moment. It may have been for a second, but it felt like it was forever. How could they understand anything about each other? Harry was an actor and yet, Louis was playing a better part than he was. Like a poor tragedy the two would fall apart.

What could he have expected in the world that they lived in? Their relationship—the one that was falling apart before it could begin—was nothing more than a child’s dream. Lying to himself would not make things any better. The facts were the facts and they were as is. Anything else was stupid and should be struck down before it manifested.

He felt tears sting his eyes. How dare they. How dare they think themselves worth being shed over someone so heartless, so evil, and uncaring. How dare they fall for someone that was no good and that would kill him over petty money or maybe even for fun. How would they like that? How would they like it if the one they loved were to stab them in the back and take all that they were worth?

The tears coward back, ashamed at their advance.

Harry mumbled, “I have paid a favor. What shall you do for me?”

Lewis picked at the sleeve of his shirt, pondering over Harry’s words. He showed no sign of aggression, only a hint of agitation. It looked like he had never heard the words of rejection, similar to what Harry would imagine Louis’ expression would be if he had refused to do him a ‘favor’.

Louis slammed his hand on the table, breaking the peace left in the room. “Drop the act, Haz. You’re itching for this and we all know it. If you’d stop acting like a fucking victim we could explain the plan. If I had known you would be this difficult I would not have sent you out in the first place!”

His voice had risen to the loudest that Harry had ever heard him speak in. The burning in his ears and painful ache in his chest didn’t stop Harry from standing up.

He could feel the sneer on his face, the disgust and contempt he held.

“I don’t want any part in it! Sending me out on some chase, for what? A test?” His feet were working on their own, taking him to the door.

“It was not suppose to go down like that,” Louis said.

Harry could not stop the laugh that came out of his mouth. His hand held the door open and he held back the strong will to slam it because he could. “The world is mysterious.”

He looked at Lewis who was watching them. There was no mistaking the amusement in his eyes. Harry’s eyes narrowed.

“Pleasure to meet you, Lewis.”

The man grinned. “You as well.”

Harry looked at Louis. There was something there, lying beneath the surface. Was it real or was it an act?

“Haz is not my name.”

Harry closed the door but far harder than what was necessary.

 


	9. Chapter Nine

_“Hazza! Come on!”_

_The tree loomed over Harry with a menacing look upon its face. It was not as frightening as the rest of the forest, only dark and mysterious. What scared him the most was the great distance he would have to climb to meet his friend at the top of the tree. He had never been keen about heights. Not afraid, only scared of falling. It was a normal reaction to anything one had not done and when his friend told him that it would be all right, he wanted to believe the boy._

_This boy was already climbing further away, using his tiny form to squeeze between branches and dodging leaves. If it had been Harry up there he would have a great trouble snaking around without getting his foot stuck. It was one of the problems with being tall._

_“Are you sure it’s safe?” Harry knew the answer before the boy would speak. Nothing could be dangerous when he was here, keeping Harry safe from anything that would try to harm him, even himself. The boy was fearless, though smaller than any boy his age, including Harry who was two years younger._

_The fog faded from his eyes. Red flooded his vision, taking over his senses. It was among the branches, flapping in the wind like a young girl’s dress. It’s owner was no girl though._

_A boy popped his head out of the tangle of leaves, his smile large, teeth showing. The red scarf was wrapped around his neck, old and fraying but still quite intact._

_“You’re going to miss it Harry!” Then a second later, the face was gone, replaced with bright green leaves._

_Harry had gazed up at the tree, waiting for the face to reappear. He let out a sigh and stepped forward, not sure where he should start. The tree was very large around the base and had very few secure starting branches to put his feet on. He had had no idea how the cheery boy had managed to get up so high in such little time. It seemed like he had simply walked up the side of the tree rather than struggled to grasp onto the rough bark of the tree._

_How many times had the boy done this? Two, five, ten? The number was endless and Harry had no need for the answer. Not wanting to be seen like a coward, he gave in to the pressure and stretched his arm up to the lowest branch. He pulled and heaved himself over the branch, using all his strength in his skinny arms._

_His feet had slipped under him a few times, but when he finally made it to the top of the tree, he knew it had been worth it._

_The small town lay out in front of him. It looked about the size of a dollhouse, people walking around to each building, looking no bigger than a doll. There was no questioning the reason behind the boy’s giddiness to climb the tree now. It made all the more sense when the reason was explained, laid out bare for all eyes to see. Though Harry wished this would become another secret of theirs, much more innocent compared to the secrets they held. With his lips seals shut, he kept his gaze on the figures walking and ignored when a small hand crept over to his arm._

<><><>

Harry had not made it far when he realized he did not have a way back to the city. He was stranded miles away from his home, no car in sight except for Louis’ parked on the other side of the house. He had not been thinking when he stormed out, not about what he would do when he got out here or how he would make it back home. It was all a mistake. Coming here and getting involved with Louis.

The signs were clear as day, as they always were. He had been to blind to see it, not the things others could see beneath the surface of the beautiful and charming smile. Had he known what he knew now, he would have run for the hills the second he had encountered Louis.

And it was the bar that had started it all. Or actually, it was the job Niall had offered him. If he had not been stressing about paying the last of the rent or if he had not followed a dream that was of his dead father’s, he might have been home right now, living a normal and safe life. But what was safe now that all his friends were gone? He thought he had gone mad the day everything had changed, but really, he had kept his head and now that felt like more torture than going completely insane.

He stood the outskirts of the driveway, looking past the trees that somehow reminded him of his lost childhood. It had been ripped away from him one day when the winter snow had fallen and the birds sang. The trees had looked evil, threatening to end his days.

But he didn’t want to think about that now. When life had been simple, much more tolerable, those were the days that he was looking for. He could reach into the deep pits of his mind, looking past the black dots and empty spaces where his memory had been erased, hoping one day he would be able to fill them in. What he was looking for was a happy memory, one that would console him and make his thoughts drift to a much more happier time.

The memories were fading fast, just like his will to keep chasing after acting. His mother, Anne, would know if he stopped trying. The next time he would visit she would see it in his face if she would not have already seen it in the letters he would write.

The sound of footsteps pulled him back from the black mist surrounding his eyes. He had not noticed that he had closed his eyes and was now standing in the middle of the drive way. The rocks under his feet stabbed at him. They could not possibly break through the soles of his shoes, but he could feel them anyway.

“Running away won’t solve the problem.”

Harry tilted his head back. He swallowed, imagining his Adam’s apple bobbing. He was also imagining what face Louis had on now. Was it his stoic one? Or could he be using his persuasive smile? It was all running together, forming a sinister look. Harry’s heart clenched as well as his hands.

“What will it take?” Harry couldn’t recognize his voice. It was scratchy and, to his dismay, sounded full of hurt. He’d tried to keep his emotions bundled down inside of him, but he had failed.

He felt the warmth of Louis’ arm touching his. Their closeness did something to Harry that he now could put a name to. His thoughts were running together, unable to keep from trailing his gaze across the sky. Everything was changing, turning into something else and yet, he was the same person he was when this had all started. Maybe he had changed a little, more than just a bit. It was all strange to think of things like this, in a different perspective. He was not the same person. He would have to get use to thinking about this moment in someone else’s eyes. If he looked upon it in his own he would not see the truth.

“What do you want me to say? I can tell you anything that you want. Tell me what you want and I will say it.” Louis grabbed Harry’s arm and yanked him towards him. Harry snapped his head down at him and hoped his eyes were burning into Louis’ skin.

“What I want you to say? What I want you to do is not to merely speak!”

“Then what do you want?” Louis held out his arms. “I’m here, powerless, waiting for you to tell me what to do.”

The anger building inside Harry was infuriating. Louis was infuriating. Nothing was coming out of Harry’s mouth. All the things that he wanted to say were lodged in his throat and he could not get them out. Everything he wanted Louis to do could not mean anything if he did not do them on his own. It would be disappointing and not at all what Harry would want. The things that he wanted were not merely wants; they were desperate needs.

Louis dropped his arms.

“There is more to this than you think.” Louis reached out with his hand and gently touched Harry’s chin. He came closer, standing on his tip-toes and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his lips. “Come with us. If you don’t, you’ll regret what you didn’t do more than what you have.”

The words struck a chord inside Harry. It did not help that the kiss had fogged his judgment. Before the night had even begun, he was sealing the deal with the blue eyed devil, and giving away his soul to someone that was far from the ordinary.

<><><>

“We’re going to do what?!”

Louis slapped his hand over Harry’s mouth and pulled him back into the seat of the car. They were heading to town and had just finished telling Harry their plan of action. Lewis was sitting across from them, the driver staring ahead with no objection of his own. Harry had not idea how to take the news, unsure if he was okay with this, but with how things had turned out so far, he could not say that he was unhappy that he had Louis’ attention.

Louis let out a small sigh and sank back into the seat. “Are you going to scream again if I remove my hand?”

Harry met his eyes, frowning at the older boy. He did not care how childish he looked. He was angry at Louis, at himself, and that fucker Lewis. No matter what he told himself, he could not deny the pure hatred that he held for the man that he had just met. He was unsure how far the hate went but for it to burn this hot it must have run deep.

Still frowning, he shook his head. The hesitant hand withdrew, leaving a soft impression on Harry’s mouth. It angered him that such a simple touch could make him feel the darkest despair.

“Now,” Louis said, “this is not the best place to talk about this. Nowhere is a good place. But having said that, I know that my home would have been a better place. Not the best but better.”

“We shouldn’t do it,” Harry mumbled.

Louis considered his words. “I know what I think is right and wrong is different from your own morals, but please do not trample on what I think is best. You could say no, though I hope it does not come down to that. Lewis, would be happy to assist me if you refuse.”

Harry had to stop himself from seething. Just thinking about Lewis standing in his place made his blood boil.

As if hearing his thoughts, Lewis grinned.

There was nothing else left to be said. Harry nodded.

“I’ll do it.”

Those words awarded him Louis’ smile and slap to his back. The warmth was there, but it was missing the affection that Harry was looking for. He did no want approval, he wanted to be wanted. It was a strange thing to think when he was put under these unexpected situations. What could Harry be of use for? The reasons Louis had told him for wanting his help made no sense. He had not even cared when Harry’s life had been put into danger. He was starting to think that Louis wanted him for nothing more than a easy hand to put to work. Was that really all that he was good for? A good hand?

The hand on his shoulder didn’t move. It began to burn into his skin. Days ago he would have done anything for the touch, but now he would do anything to get rid of it. But he was conflicted between himself. He could not make up his mind if he wanted Louis or not, if he wanted to get involve with this part of the world or not. This was dangerous territory, no denying it. It was quite obvious that Louis loved it and lived for the dangerous atmosphere that it provided. Money and adventure was the reward for such antics. Harry was sure that he could find those things somewhere different.

Each time he was pulled back to his starting point. Nothing mattered when things were compared to the man. He was far greater than Harry’s life, more important to Harry than anything else. Just to see his smile...Harry was going to do anything if he could. Life was short on this life and to live without love, the love that he had been desperate for for years, would leave his life meaning nothing.

 


	10. Chapter Ten

The evening air sent shivers down Harry’s spine. His teeth chattered and goosebumps broke out on his arms. He was wearing heavy clothing, one of his favorite shirt and pants, the best of his clothing. Clothing wise, he did not have much to choose from anyway. When he had moved from the city he only had so much money. Buying clothes was the last thing on his mind, surviving taking up a big chunk of the money that he had. Some days he would pretend that he was more than the simple man that he was. Sometimes he would love to put himself in Louis’ shoes. He could do anything that he wanted, be anyone that he wanted. Just for fun, he could imagine himself being Louis. The man could do almost anything with his money, but the personality behind the money could do anything that it wanted anyway.

Mr. Tomlinson was like no one else, a true diamond among the fallen rock of the slums of Chicago.

Harry stared out his bedroom window, his mind running back to think about Louis and his goal to shut Harry out on the way to his apartment. He could not keep his mind off of Lewis either. That put a damper on his mood more than anything. It was strange that that man could agitate him more than the reason for Harry being wanted there. Through all the things that he had been through in the last couple of weeks, which were nothing compared to the day before, a man that he had just met was more of a problem to him than almost being killed.

It must of been why he left the house in such a sour mood. He did not bother changing his clothes, they were his best after all, if that said much about anything.

The long walk took the thoughts away, leaving behind an empty space like felt like someone had ripped his heart out. He didn’t care if he felt like he had left his heart somewhere else or if that he felt his insides caving in on themselves. This was all that was left of him in this sad and dreary place. He did not even feel the need to find work anymore, as if his very need for success was ripped away from him the moment he met Mr. Tomlinson.

He laughed to himself. Was he back at square one? Referring to Louis as Mr. Tomlinson? He sounded like a man that was not sure to himself about his strength or place in society.

That thought made him stumble. A couple eyed him on the street but continued to walk on.

Finally he made it to the front door of the bar, hiding within the cold and dreary structure of the old building. He passed through the first door with ease like he always did and the second, save for the bodyguard who he never had the chance of learning his name. The Emblem could not have been the answer Harry had been looking for. The bar should have been the last place he would seek out for comfort and to push out his unwanted thought. Everything about the business was screaming Louis in every aspect.

A familiar blond head bobbed at the bar counter, waving his hand in Harry’s direction. “Harry? What are you doing here?”

The question did nothing to mask Niall’s growing excitement at seeing Harry. The boy bubbled and raced to the far corner to greet him.

Harry pulled a smile just for Niall’s sake, keeping up with his happy facade. It would have been far too difficult to explain his troubles. Though Niall had met Louis, Harry had no idea how he would take his taking to the powerful man. Zayn and Liam might be the only ones to understand, but they were more critical than Niall could be.

“Do I need a reason to visit?” Harry took a seat on one of the stools, placing his hands on the counter. It was cool to the touch, beautiful marble that should have no place in a lonesome speak-easy.

Niall looked doubtful. “You have never shown your face here except for when you’re working. What’s the reason? Only a sad man comes to drink alone.”

Harry opened his mouth to let out another lie, one that might put Niall’s questions to ease until another time, but before he could say anything, another man came up to him and slid an arm around his shoulders.

“Well, if I had a nickel for every time I bumped into you.” Harry laughed at the familiar voice, not at all nervous about the strange and unexpected touch. He leaned back into it, basking in anything that might detour his thoughts.

“What would you do with so much money?”

Nick sat down and gently slapped his hand on the counter. “Buy drinks of course. You never know when they will run out around here. Any day this pretty place could be gone.”

Harry hummed. He had nothing to say to that. Odd how the man that had the job he had been searching for would spend what money he had on drinks. Nick was handsome, a man that could possibly a great star. He cocked his head and gave Harry a contemplating look.

“Whatever happened to auditioning to our cast? I waited for your call for so long,” Nick said while motioning for Niall to get him drink.

Harry watched Niall turn and begin to make the drink, but was thinking about the question. He honestly had forgotten about the audition Nick had promised him. The things going on around him had taken up most of his thoughts and working here at The Emblem took a lot of his energy away.

“I apologize. The time had run away from me. In such a big city, it was hard to get in touch.”

Nick seemed to take the answer with grace. “Will you audition then? Or should I open the spot to someone else?”

Harry automatically began to tell him no, but stopped.

For the past week he had not thought once about the audition. There was no excitement or nervousness. He could not even say that he was overjoyed to finally find another opening in a show, one that might guarantee him more than a minor role. He felt nothing.

Harry raised his hand. “Niall, a drink please. Anything.”

Nick’s question hung in the air, but he did not seem to worry about it. Harry was sure he already had the answer; there would be no need to ask again when the answer was quite obvious.

The long night began after that. Drink after drink, Harry’s mind would seep further into itself. All that he had left, his strength and will, slowly drifted away into nothing. It was the best feeling he had had in a long time. But it was nothing like the feeling he got when he kissed Louis.

The confession disgusted him. He was weak and vile. The sin was the devil’s work, even though he had gotten over his feelings for men. What had Louis meant when they had pulled away from their long kiss? Had he meant that he was the same like Harry, that he longed for the touch of men rather than women.

His mind drifted to the party where the blond doll had turned her full attention to Louis. Harry had at first thought it was a game to Louis, a game to play with the women that would never actually have any power over him. He was more than a hungry man with the need to devour young women. That was what Harry had thought he had meant, but could it have been something else? He honestly could not tell anymore. With his mind so muddled by the alcohol, he could barely remember why he had ended up here. Was it to forget? Or what it to talk to Niall?

Everything blurred together and the only thing that stood out was Nick’s creeping hand.

It was curious, the hand. There was no hesitance or questioning. It was there, bold and bright, not doubtful about its advance. Under the hazy lighting, Harry couldn’t see much of anything save for Niall’s hair and the small features of Nick’s face. What was bound to be his fifth glass was sitting half empty on the bar counter, calling to him for another drink. He answered the call, lifting the glass to his lips and downing the last of it. Nick’s eyes drifted down to Harry’s neck. He licked his lips and a unintentional shiver went through Harry.

His eyes scanned the dark lit room, but there was no one to see them. Niall was busy in the storage room, using this free time to organize a few things for when it would become busy. There was only him and Nick.

Harry felt warm breath on his neck and stilled when he felt lips next.

“Where are you going tonight?”

His mouth wouldn’t work. His lips parted and cheeks flushed. The words were there, but he could not make them come out. Nick was moving before he could, pushing past his barriers and pressing his hot lips to his own. They were bursting with fire and want.

When Nick broke the kiss, Harry blinked to shake the fuzziness away. “Come on.”

Nick hastily slapped down a couple bills onto the counter, paying for both of their drinks. His arm snaked around Harry’s waist and dragged him away from the bar and to the hallway. If Harry had been paying attention he would have noticed the bodyguard was missing from his post. But his mind was somewhere else as he was tugged out onto the street and to the back alley. His nerves should have been running high, but ll that he could feel was the cold night air on his face and the warm body pulling him towards it.

Lips trailed along his neck, stealing his breath away. He could feel everything down to his core, bursting with life inside his stomach. Feeling wanted, its all that he was longing for. His arms snaked around Nick’s neck, pulling his lips away from his neck and to his lips. They were scorching hot now, burning at just the right temperature. His gut twisted with need and his arousal only soared when he thought about the possibility of being caught.

The moment only lasted a few minutes when he heard the clack of heels in the distant. He removed his arms from around Nick’s neck and pushed at his chest. “Wait. I h-hear someone.”

His words slurred and he could barely keep his eyes open. Nick looked behind him.

“There’s no one there.”

He was leaning down to kiss Harry when the footsteps started again.

Harry snapped out of his haze and pushed again at Nick’s chest. “This-This isn’t a good idea.”

Nick frowned a him and grabbed his arms. “There’s nothing to be nervous about. Being with a man isn’t too different. You’ll get use to it.”

That was not what Harry had a problem with. The need that had been burning inside of him was now burnt out. All that he wanted now was to get away.

“Let go,” he said, pulling his hands away. Nick pushed into him. Harry tried again to push at him. “It’s the drinks.”

Harry’s words seemed to not reach Nick’s ears. He continued to back Harry up against the brick wall, cornering him in. He did not like this. He did not want things to take this turn. Nick was not like this before, he wasn’t like this. It was only the drinks they had shared inside the bar. His mind flashed to the exact laws that banned alcohol and could hear the laughter of thousands of people.

Nick kept advancing until he was right upon Harry.

“I’ll take care of you.”

Nick hand slipped under Harry’s shirt, but it didn’t get far when a was knocked to the ground.

Harry stood against the brick wall, breathing hard and staring down at the ground. Two figures struggled on the ground, kicking and punching at each other. He knew Nick was among them and when he looked closer he made out the distinct features of Louis’ face.

With wide eyes, Harry rushed towards them. Nick had been knocked to the ground, groaning and twisting as blood stream down his face from his nose. His lip had been split open and a bruise was starting to from on his cheek. Louis straddled him and punched the man repeatedly, huffing and cursing with each punch.

The world was spinning and before he knew it, Harry was bending over and throwing up the contents of his stomach.

He didn’t help and he didn’t intervene. He’d watched it from the sideline, watching as Louis killed Nick.

<><><>

The car bumped along the road and smoke filled the air. Louis reached across the seat and crush the rest of his cigarette out. A film of ash sprung up in the air and then settled down. Harry stared at the ashtray, a moment lost in whatever dimension he could escape to. Lewis sat beside Louis, smoking the rest of his cigarette while speaking in hushed tones to Louis. They were talking about the plan, making sure that they both knew what was to be expected.

There would be two guards at the middle entrance, one attendant at each box, and three guards as well as one attendant at the vault. If they were careful enough they could slipped past the first two guards without being detected. Any civilians would not know the difference between them if they dressed in lower class clothing. There was no doubt that their flashy suits would catch an eyeful if they did not change. It had also been decided that Harry would be the bag keeper. They would give him a small gun, one that would be easy to use.

Louis glanced Harry’s way, his eye pools of blue, darker than they ever been. Harry had seen a look quite like it long ago. It was a look of wonder and it took him back to the innocent days when he was younger. He reminded him of a small boy who he played with. With such similarities, Harry felt foolish not realizing how close they resembled each other before. The boy’s name was lost in time and he wondered whatever happened to him.

The car slid to a stop behind a tall building just outside the busiest street in the city. Harry’s heart beaten fast in his chest and he could not help but feel pure fear. They were going to do the unthinkable. But what he had seen the night before, the rage in Louis’ eyes, this was not like that at all. Louis had been out of control, a monster hiding under human flesh. Hard could not get the image of Louis’ raging fist and the blood spilling out under Nick’s limp body. He had not even had the time to contemplate what had happened before Louis was tugging him down the alley and back to his apartment in the city. The blood on his hands stained Harry’s clothing and skin. The smell was still rooted deep inside his nose, still hanging in the air around him even though he had scrubbed for hours in the bathtub.

Lewis was the first one to exit the car. No one was in sight, not even a stray dog had dared enter the alley once they did. With one hand, the man opened the trunk and pulled out a long machine gun about the size of his arm.

Harry gaped at the great machine as Lewis loaded it with bullets. Harry was not very familiar with different guns, could not give one a specific name if it depended on his life. All he knew was that this one could create havoc and chaos. It was one of the best choices for the job. That must have been what Lewis and Louis were aiming for. They were not going to play around with this one.

But the way Louis jumped out of the car with a giddy smile made Harry feel uneasy. Last night had proved just how far the man was willing to go to get what he wanted. It was not like Harry could do anything to stop him. Yes, he could pull himself back, deny what they wanted, but he felt like he could not turn back now. There was something hidden inside that man, something that he was desperate to not let go. He had to stay if he wanted to uncover it. And it was not a game to him, no matter how he looked at it. This was something completely different from a game of wits. They were a power struggle, but Harry would give in if it meant getting what he wanted.

“What are you waiting for Hazza?” Louis waved his hand for the boy to come to him. The innocent act was different than Harry was use to. The way the blue eyes called to him was not like it usually was. Of course, they were about to rob a bank, there was no way to keep this innocent anymore. This was his last chance. If he stepped out of the car now he would be agreeing to this through and through. But had he not already sold his soul the first day he fell for him?

Wasn't he doomed when Louis used him?

He didn't glare nor did he return Louis’ smile. He stepped out of the car, holding his hat to his head so that it would not blow away in the wind. The hand was still outstretched for him to take. He stared at it, looked up into Louis’ face and then sneered. He conjured as much hatred and disgust as he could without breaking his acting. It was not as hard as he thought it would be. Practicing and inheriting his father’s skill did come in handy at some points, all the other reasons flew out the window when Nick had died.

Lewis laughed at Harry’s little outburst. “He is quite a hand full. I am honestly surprised you have put up with him this long.”

Harry turned is target to Lewis and snarled at him. The man raised an eyebrow and gave a pointed look to Louis who only shrugged. “He is not mine to control.”

Silence fell over them. Lewis went back to the trunk and pulled out two more guns, handing the larger one to Louis and the smaller to Harry. He was still sour over being called s hand full and yanked the gun far harder from Lewis’ hand than what was necessary. The fit only made Lewis laugh more.

Harry pretended to not hear the remark about him acting like a child. At this point he could not care less.

“Last thing.”

Lewis held out the black bag. Harry stared at it for what seemed like eternity but in reality had only been a second. The rough material scratched his skin, leaving tiny red marks. If he gripped it too tight it would cut through his skin. He tried to not think about that and closed his eyes automatically. The wind blew his curls back and he inhaled the sweet smell of the chilled air. The sun was beginning to set, leaving dark shadows on the beautiful city. Though none of them said anything, there was an unspoken question: would they make it out alive?

<><><>

The corridor was tall and spacious, quite different from other banks in the area. They had taken their time building this one, putting in large sculptures and paintings in the room to make it feel more than just a place to keep your money. Harry was also fooled by it and felt bad about what they were planning to do. He had never wanted to become someone like this, a criminal, a person who had watched a man beat another to death with his bare fists.

He had never wanted this.

In return for his wanting he had received heartache and tainted love. This was far worse than what he already was. He was more than a sinner now; he was evil. No matter what he did he would be one of filth and disgust.

It didn't matter anymore, nothing did.

“Oh! I'm sorry!” Harry was taken aback when he was hit in the shoulder. A short woman with blond hair was helping him steady himself, apologizing repeatedly. Over her hasty words he heard the small cooing of a child. He frowned until he found the source being the small child behind the woman's legs.

The little girl was dressed in a short brown dress, her hair pulled back by a small red ribbon.

“Lou, don't be shy,” the woman said.

Harry stood frozen where he was. The woman's hand on his shoulder burned through his clothing and into his skin. He couldn't breathe.

The girl stared up at Harry and slowly smiled.

She opened her mouth and—

“Harry!”

The first gun shot was the warning.

“On the ground! Everyone get down on the ground!” Lewis’ voice echoed through the room almost drowned out by the screams.

Harry’s world tipped and the smiling girl was now crying on the floor. The blond woman, who oddly reminded him of Niall, was one of the first to scream. She took one look at the bag in Harry’s hand and it was as if she could read his mind. She knew. They all knew.

A hand yanked him back from the seen, throwing him behind the counter where one of the workers was grabbing at stacks of cash as quickly as his hands would able him. Louis was standing over the man, laid back and smoking a half smoked cigarette.

Lewis thought this was funny and swiped at the stick. “Was old buddy here taking a break?”

Louis rolled his eyes and nodded towards the man on the ground. “Watch him will yeah? Me and Harry will go to the back.”

Lewis complied and took watch, the gun ready in his hand. The screams and crying had started to fade away into the background, but that did not mean that they were gone.

Harry followed Louis until they were heading in a direction that he was unfamiliar with. It was not until they were in sight of a door that he grabbed Louis’ arm. The empty bag in his hand was fell out of his grasp and he was desperate to keep Louis back.

“What are you doing?” He hissed. He held back all the tears inside of him, ignoring the pain inside of him and the crying of so many just a few doors down.

Louis looked exasperated, but stopped struggling from Harry’s grasp anyway. “What am I doing? Why the hell did you agree to this?”

Harry gawked. “What?! You said that you needed my help!”

Louis groaned, running a hand through his hair. He turned around and paced around the small floor space. “I didn't think you'd agree! Lewis has these crazy ideas and I can't help if I indulge him a bit, but you—“

He looked up. “You were suppose to refuse. What happened when I asked you for a favor did not go as I had planned. You were almost killed and I didn't—fuck. I didn't think about the risk I was taking, not about the danger I was putting you in.”

Harry frowned. “What are you saying?”

Louis stepped up to him. “I'm saying I need you to leave. I can't risk losing you here, not ever. If you stay I can't guarantee I can keep you safe. Any minute the police will arrive and we'll be swarmed.”

Harry shook his head and grabbed Louis’ hands. “No. If that's true, you can't stay either.”

Louis gave a small smile. “And leave Lewis on his own?”

The snort came out before Harry could stop it. “Tell him to leave with what he can.”

“He won't do it.”

“Then leave him if he refuses!”

Louis’s smile drooped. It was a sad look, a look he would give a child. But Harry wasn't a child, he wasn't like the little boy that had been left alone in the forest.

The tears dripped down his cheeks. He had not even noticed he was crying.

Louis wiped the tears away with his thumbs. “Don't cry, Hazza. I won't die.”

“You”—hiccup—“can't promise that.” He was sobbing now, making grabby motions to Louis. The older boy indulged him and pulled him into a hug. He kissed him on his temple, Harry’s wracking body shaking even harder.

“Don't forget me?”

“Never.”

The distance between them grew, Louis’ hands gently releasing him and leading him to the door. With the rush of the moment, Harry pulled Louis to him one last time, kissing him fully on the lips, savoring what he could.

As the door closed, the last thing he saw was the light inside the blue eyes he had fallen in love with.

The moments past in a peaceful state. No screams or gun shots could be heard from here. It seemed like it had all been a dream.

But in a split second the peace was broken.

An arm locked around Harry’s neck and jerked him back against a hard chest.

“Mr. Tomlinson isn't a smart man.”

Another voice joined the voice as the cold barrel of a gun was pressed against Harry’s temple. He jerked and struggled agains the tight hold but was held firmly in place.

“Yes. Mr. Cowell will be very pleased with our find.”


End file.
